Ain't Worried
Pull up in a lounge truck, M.O.I., stoop, let's do it
Pull up with a bad bitch, and a booty stoop, yo
Racks and them pounds, nigga, the bands, we broke through
We ain't worried 'bout no bulletproof, we got the bullets to shoot through
We ain't worried 'bout no opps, on the block with my Glocks up
S&M, one in the head, got my guap, we ain't worried 'bout that bad
Got that cash, and they can't do that shit, tornado with my wrist
Spin that pot, nigga, I cook that brick
Za-za bag, go for very high price
On the real street, nigga, all I know is raw ice
In the kitchen with that dope, gotta cook this shit
Cut the headshot of young nigga, tryna earn him a scrape
Everything that I said to the opp, bitch, I fucking mean it
Cook that fucking brick, like it Fettuccine
Hundred thousand for some new teeth, gotta see my dentist
Got a slide bag, I forgot to put the diamonds in it
Four door black Mack truck, and we slidin' in it
Don't hop in that car, you ain't no stubble, you ain't slidin', nigga
Real shooter count bad, fuck your pride, nigga
Stop that car, hop on feet, let it slide, nigga
Pull up in a lounge truck, M.O.I., stoop, let's do it
Pull up with a bad bitch, and a booty stoop, yo
Racks and them pounds, nigga, the bands, we blow through 'em
We ain't worried 'bout no bulletproof, got the bullets to shoot 'em
We ain't worried 'bout no opps, on the block, with my Glock 12
S&M, one in the head, got my guap, boom
We ain't worried 'bout that bag, got that cash, nigga, can't do that shit
Tornado with my wrist, spin that pot, nigga, I cook that bread
Yo, Tornado brick, yo, cook that shit in three sets
Real truck, shelf, nigga, I cut that dope in sixty seconds
Scratch the four, now they callin' me a fuckin' chemist
Real dope, y'all drink gold, really sell pressure
12 at the door, through the door, out the roof
Threw the gun out the balcony and hopped in the coupe
Disappeared on niggas like Valmoose
Shootin' at my opp like L.A. Oups
Sippin' trees, bitch, this ain't Grey Coots
Choppa givin' a knock and this shit loose
Real street, nigga, and not the booth
Everybody in the game knowin' the truth
Let's do it, I don't got shiny as shit
Niggas out there puttin' a ditch, don't play with this shit
Trout, growin' stupid, I drop them bands, I land rollin' loud
Niggas playin' with the game, jumpin' in the crowd
Pull up in the lounge truck, number one student
Pull up with a bad bitch and a Buddhist student
Racks and them pounds, nigga, the bands, we blow bands
We ain't worried 'bout no bulletproof, we got the bird shootin'
We ain't worried 'bout no opps, on the block with my Glocks
It's an N1 in the head, got my guap
We ain't worried 'bout that bag, got that cash
Nigga can't do that shit, tornado with my wrist
Spin that pack, nigga, I cook that brick
Pull up with a bad bitch, and a booty stoop, yo
Racks and them pounds, nigga, the bands, we broke through
We ain't worried 'bout no bulletproof, we got the bullets to shoot through
We ain't worried 'bout no opps, on the block with my Glocks up
S&M, one in the head, got my guap, we ain't worried 'bout that bad
Got that cash, and they can't do that shit, tornado with my wrist
Spin that pot, nigga, I cook that brick
Za-za bag, go for very high price
On the real street, nigga, all I know is raw ice
In the kitchen with that dope, gotta cook this shit
Cut the headshot of young nigga, tryna earn him a scrape
Everything that I said to the opp, bitch, I fucking mean it
Cook that fucking brick, like it Fettuccine
Hundred thousand for some new teeth, gotta see my dentist
Got a slide bag, I forgot to put the diamonds in it
Four door black Mack truck, and we slidin' in it
Don't hop in that car, you ain't no stubble, you ain't slidin', nigga
Real shooter count bad, fuck your pride, nigga
Stop that car, hop on feet, let it slide, nigga
Pull up in a lounge truck, M.O.I., stoop, let's do it
Pull up with a bad bitch, and a booty stoop, yo
Racks and them pounds, nigga, the bands, we blow through 'em
We ain't worried 'bout no bulletproof, got the bullets to shoot 'em
We ain't worried 'bout no opps, on the block, with my Glock 12
S&M, one in the head, got my guap, boom
We ain't worried 'bout that bag, got that cash, nigga, can't do that shit
Tornado with my wrist, spin that pot, nigga, I cook that bread
Yo, Tornado brick, yo, cook that shit in three sets
Real truck, shelf, nigga, I cut that dope in sixty seconds
Scratch the four, now they callin' me a fuckin' chemist
Real dope, y'all drink gold, really sell pressure
12 at the door, through the door, out the roof
Threw the gun out the balcony and hopped in the coupe
Disappeared on niggas like Valmoose
Shootin' at my opp like L.A. Oups
Sippin' trees, bitch, this ain't Grey Coots
Choppa givin' a knock and this shit loose
Real street, nigga, and not the booth
Everybody in the game knowin' the truth
Let's do it, I don't got shiny as shit
Niggas out there puttin' a ditch, don't play with this shit
Trout, growin' stupid, I drop them bands, I land rollin' loud
Niggas playin' with the game, jumpin' in the crowd
Pull up in the lounge truck, number one student
Pull up with a bad bitch and a Buddhist student
Racks and them pounds, nigga, the bands, we blow bands
We ain't worried 'bout no bulletproof, we got the bird shootin'
We ain't worried 'bout no opps, on the block with my Glocks
It's an N1 in the head, got my guap
We ain't worried 'bout that bag, got that cash
Nigga can't do that shit, tornado with my wrist
Spin that pack, nigga, I cook that brick
Credits
Writer(s): Deandre Cortez Way
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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