CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : No Luv
Wop (Wop)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, ha, go
They say that I'm a clone, I’m not a human being (Well damn)
'Cause I can't on and maim you without my human feelings (Huh)
Got a murder on my belt, it’s holdin' up my denim (It's Gucci)
I'm keepin' the feds out my biz, you tryna put 'em in 'em (Racks)
You say you wanna square off, well, f**k it, square off (Well damn)
Choppa knock ya hair off, it turned ya bare off (Brr)
I pray my haters get corona, stop the coughin' on me (Yeah)
The last n***a ran up on me, and in a coffin, homie (Damn)
I know the feds listen to me, they my competition
Couldn’t beat me fair and square, so they recruited snitches (You snitchеs)
Put ya homie in the ICU, he needed stitches, yeah
Y’all actin' gangster, but deep down, y’all know y'all really b*t*hes (pu**y)
I make a snowstorm, not a flurry, whip it in a hurry (Skrrt)
They say I did it, I'm so rich, I still crank up the jury (Yeah)
They wanna hang me by the rafters like Vince Carter's jersey (Vince)
Everybody broke, I could have retired, early thirty (Woo)
Ran through like thirty million dollars in my early thirties (Huh?)
I rep the 6 like Julius Erving, showtime like Sam Perkins (Wow)
These b*t*hes eatin’ these Percocets like they Boston Baked Beans (Wow)
Somebody pinch him 'cause he tryna be me, it's a dream (It's Gucci)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, ha, go
They say that I'm a clone, I’m not a human being (Well damn)
'Cause I can't on and maim you without my human feelings (Huh)
Got a murder on my belt, it’s holdin' up my denim (It's Gucci)
I'm keepin' the feds out my biz, you tryna put 'em in 'em (Racks)
You say you wanna square off, well, f**k it, square off (Well damn)
Choppa knock ya hair off, it turned ya bare off (Brr)
I pray my haters get corona, stop the coughin' on me (Yeah)
The last n***a ran up on me, and in a coffin, homie (Damn)
I know the feds listen to me, they my competition
Couldn’t beat me fair and square, so they recruited snitches (You snitchеs)
Put ya homie in the ICU, he needed stitches, yeah
Y’all actin' gangster, but deep down, y’all know y'all really b*t*hes (pu**y)
I make a snowstorm, not a flurry, whip it in a hurry (Skrrt)
They say I did it, I'm so rich, I still crank up the jury (Yeah)
They wanna hang me by the rafters like Vince Carter's jersey (Vince)
Everybody broke, I could have retired, early thirty (Woo)
Ran through like thirty million dollars in my early thirties (Huh?)
I rep the 6 like Julius Erving, showtime like Sam Perkins (Wow)
These b*t*hes eatin’ these Percocets like they Boston Baked Beans (Wow)
Somebody pinch him 'cause he tryna be me, it's a dream (It's Gucci)
