I Aint Goin (feat. Trouble)
Goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib God bless
Holiday season
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)
I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and c's all in my smoke
I had niggas jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke
Woke up, snatched my pistol out the couch
Niggas just robbed the connect
Get your shit, we gotta bounce
We was almost grabbing P's
We was gettin' it by the ounce
So, I took a trip down south
We put up enough to get a house
Shit got hot and we got out
Back up top, I need a block
[??] get cooked, just need a pot
You say you got work, I don't need it now
I'm in a drop and I'm speedin' (skrt)
Talking police, I don't see them now
I got the Glock for no reason (no reason)
It's hard to tell who be scheming now
I ain't going back to selling smoke
I ain't going back to selling pills
Loaded weapon in my coat
Now I'm somewhere in the hills
Private jet, Givenchy clothes
Need some Fronto, I could roll
Shit, I'm counting, got me cold (ice cold)
I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and c's all in my smoke
I had niggas jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, Holiday Season go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke
Ayy, I bought them in the back, the slums is where I come from
Rats and roaches, Henny toasting ease the pain to keep calm
I picked up the pistol before I ever picked up a pack
Turned up by the streets then I went turned out the snakes
How deep is that, I'ma tell ya
Pop was always in and out, same way as my trap, yeah
Doors swinging, niggas banging, that .
40 still on my lap, don't need your hoe
Put fan that verse in
Be about your pimp
Never thought you'd see my bloods
united, thugging with all these neighbours
We're talking crips, real drip
Whenever you see Scoob, I'm talking [??]
Will I ever go back back, what I'm used to, I was so broke
Roam at home, I had shit by my lonely on it
If I was born in slave days, they had to store me, I'm so rebellious
Fuck niggas jealous, they always have been, I'ma tell you
My nigga, I'm telling you
I don't fuck with has-beens, I save ya
Young nigga save ya
Anything we have been, when beef, I bring all the flame
I guess I'm trapping no failure
And when I save ya, you can ask my best friend, I'm ridin'
On, John Gotti henchmen
I was slipping, I was falling but a nigga got the fuck up
Thank you god, for my hard times and God it's all love
I ain't goin' back to being broke
32 Entertainment
I ain't goin' back to being broke
Comission
Lord, I ain't goin' back to being broke
A Life Team
I ain't goin' back to being broke
It was our pleasure
Karma 2!
Love, I swear to god this shit don't get old
Go get them bags, nigga, haha-ha-ha
I had roaches in my crib God bless
Holiday season
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)
I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and c's all in my smoke
I had niggas jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke
Woke up, snatched my pistol out the couch
Niggas just robbed the connect
Get your shit, we gotta bounce
We was almost grabbing P's
We was gettin' it by the ounce
So, I took a trip down south
We put up enough to get a house
Shit got hot and we got out
Back up top, I need a block
[??] get cooked, just need a pot
You say you got work, I don't need it now
I'm in a drop and I'm speedin' (skrt)
Talking police, I don't see them now
I got the Glock for no reason (no reason)
It's hard to tell who be scheming now
I ain't going back to selling smoke
I ain't going back to selling pills
Loaded weapon in my coat
Now I'm somewhere in the hills
Private jet, Givenchy clothes
Need some Fronto, I could roll
Shit, I'm counting, got me cold (ice cold)
I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and c's all in my smoke
I had niggas jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, Holiday Season go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke
Ayy, I bought them in the back, the slums is where I come from
Rats and roaches, Henny toasting ease the pain to keep calm
I picked up the pistol before I ever picked up a pack
Turned up by the streets then I went turned out the snakes
How deep is that, I'ma tell ya
Pop was always in and out, same way as my trap, yeah
Doors swinging, niggas banging, that .
40 still on my lap, don't need your hoe
Put fan that verse in
Be about your pimp
Never thought you'd see my bloods
united, thugging with all these neighbours
We're talking crips, real drip
Whenever you see Scoob, I'm talking [??]
Will I ever go back back, what I'm used to, I was so broke
Roam at home, I had shit by my lonely on it
If I was born in slave days, they had to store me, I'm so rebellious
Fuck niggas jealous, they always have been, I'ma tell you
My nigga, I'm telling you
I don't fuck with has-beens, I save ya
Young nigga save ya
Anything we have been, when beef, I bring all the flame
I guess I'm trapping no failure
And when I save ya, you can ask my best friend, I'm ridin'
On, John Gotti henchmen
I was slipping, I was falling but a nigga got the fuck up
Thank you god, for my hard times and God it's all love
I ain't goin' back to being broke
32 Entertainment
I ain't goin' back to being broke
Comission
Lord, I ain't goin' back to being broke
A Life Team
I ain't goin' back to being broke
It was our pleasure
Karma 2!
Love, I swear to god this shit don't get old
Go get them bags, nigga, haha-ha-ha
Credits
Writer(s): David Brewster
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.