No Lettin Up
Boy it ain't no hoe in me
I swear ain't no exposing me
Niggas that y'all thinking be them killers
Really hoes to me
PTSD I might up and blast if you get close to me
Say that's yo bitch but here's the trick that bitch be throating me
Hit that cut wet em up
Morgue gotta dress em up
Get a boo set em up doctors gotta patch em up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Like iron man I slide with steel
Chase him down I'm off this pill
Trip and fall then he get killed
Stop crying bout it and go do a drill
Better duck yo taco you get hit for acting macho
Fifty filled with hallows you won't make it to tomorrow
I keep them straps I'm buckled up
I'm sending shells no knuckle up
Might come through dressed up like a cluck
They ain't blow back them niggas suck
Can't up the score then niggas suck
Died with his gun ran outta luck
They crying like what the fuck to the lord we sent em up
Boy it ain't no hoe in me
I swear ain't no exposing me
Niggas that y'all thinking be them killers
Really hoes to me
PTSD I might up and blast if you get close to me
Say that's yo bitch but here's the trick that bitch be throating me
Hit that cut wet em up
Morgue gotta dress em up
Get a boo set em up doctors gotta patch em up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
I swear ain't no exposing me
Niggas that y'all thinking be them killers
Really hoes to me
PTSD I might up and blast if you get close to me
Say that's yo bitch but here's the trick that bitch be throating me
Hit that cut wet em up
Morgue gotta dress em up
Get a boo set em up doctors gotta patch em up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Like iron man I slide with steel
Chase him down I'm off this pill
Trip and fall then he get killed
Stop crying bout it and go do a drill
Better duck yo taco you get hit for acting macho
Fifty filled with hallows you won't make it to tomorrow
I keep them straps I'm buckled up
I'm sending shells no knuckle up
Might come through dressed up like a cluck
They ain't blow back them niggas suck
Can't up the score then niggas suck
Died with his gun ran outta luck
They crying like what the fuck to the lord we sent em up
Boy it ain't no hoe in me
I swear ain't no exposing me
Niggas that y'all thinking be them killers
Really hoes to me
PTSD I might up and blast if you get close to me
Say that's yo bitch but here's the trick that bitch be throating me
Hit that cut wet em up
Morgue gotta dress em up
Get a boo set em up doctors gotta patch em up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Foot ona opps neck it got em stressed and Ian lettin up
Credits
Writer(s): Dejaunte Poe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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