Never Stopping
(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Oh
(Ay-ay-ayo, Bleu)
You know, fuck wrong with niggas?
(Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
(Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
Hm, oh, huh
Slow down, huh, hold on
Baby, get ya' roll, like—
Oh, my eyes fucked up
Tell her, "Slow down"
Get ya' roll on, fuck that
Let me start over, look, hold on, hold on
Nene, I don't need ya' Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's that Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Keep that camera lens, you play with me, I shoot the scene, huh, huh
Flip my clip then—, huh
Hit that bitch like—
Like mmm, mmm
I keep that shit insidе my system to put up with you
I take this money, buy my cars or somе brand new shoes
I had to tell 'em give me bars for to catch my groove
I took that bitch and did her bad in my recording room
I gave that bitch some bands too
I see some shit 'bout church on TV then I turn it off
I ain't talking money
I walk straight off
I ain't tryna hear that at all
Bitch, get me on then top me off, my life ain't strict at all
Fucked up, but I ain't fucked up, thank God I made it out
I'll throw you somethin', I'm turnt up
YoungBoy, I stay jaded
You gon' try sum', get your head split
You gots to be fucking crazy
Bitch just want my money, she ain't gon' spend it on my baby
This bitch ain't give me nothin', she must thinkin' that she played me
I know that I ain't shit but this ho say that I'm amazing
Ho, bitch, slow down
Told her get her roll on
Please, don't call YoungBoy phone, huh
They thought the legal beat me
Bitch, I'm rich, you can't catch up
I ran it up, they see me and I'm barely showin' love
Put that bitch on TV, huh, huh, I smoke that boy
All my bitches love me, I cut that extra ho like—
Nene, I don't need ya' Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's that Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Try me once, now want me to take you back
Hell nah, hell nah, huh, hell nah
Ooh, huh
Bitch tryna get mad and dive in my shit, she tryna fuck up my groove
Know I get mad, as bad as a bitch, and she can't get no shoes
Hop out that bitch
Fit straight all rainbow, bitch, you know I'm a fool
Who? mm-ooh, who they talkin' to?
Whack that man and then I do my dance, like, bitch, I been the truth
Get them bands
And do the running man
Now, bitch, go and bring my food, huh
Tell 'em fuck 'em, I been hustlin', I won't leave the stu' (Ooh)
(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Huh, YoungBoy, I'm caught up with steppin'
Bang out, I'm with it, whatever
(Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
I don't need ya' Chelsea
Oh, hell nah
(Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
Oh
(Ay-ay-ayo, Bleu)
You know, fuck wrong with niggas?
(Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
(Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
Hm, oh, huh
Slow down, huh, hold on
Baby, get ya' roll, like—
Oh, my eyes fucked up
Tell her, "Slow down"
Get ya' roll on, fuck that
Let me start over, look, hold on, hold on
Nene, I don't need ya' Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's that Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Keep that camera lens, you play with me, I shoot the scene, huh, huh
Flip my clip then—, huh
Hit that bitch like—
Like mmm, mmm
I keep that shit insidе my system to put up with you
I take this money, buy my cars or somе brand new shoes
I had to tell 'em give me bars for to catch my groove
I took that bitch and did her bad in my recording room
I gave that bitch some bands too
I see some shit 'bout church on TV then I turn it off
I ain't talking money
I walk straight off
I ain't tryna hear that at all
Bitch, get me on then top me off, my life ain't strict at all
Fucked up, but I ain't fucked up, thank God I made it out
I'll throw you somethin', I'm turnt up
YoungBoy, I stay jaded
You gon' try sum', get your head split
You gots to be fucking crazy
Bitch just want my money, she ain't gon' spend it on my baby
This bitch ain't give me nothin', she must thinkin' that she played me
I know that I ain't shit but this ho say that I'm amazing
Ho, bitch, slow down
Told her get her roll on
Please, don't call YoungBoy phone, huh
They thought the legal beat me
Bitch, I'm rich, you can't catch up
I ran it up, they see me and I'm barely showin' love
Put that bitch on TV, huh, huh, I smoke that boy
All my bitches love me, I cut that extra ho like—
Nene, I don't need ya' Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's that Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Try me once, now want me to take you back
Hell nah, hell nah, huh, hell nah
Ooh, huh
Bitch tryna get mad and dive in my shit, she tryna fuck up my groove
Know I get mad, as bad as a bitch, and she can't get no shoes
Hop out that bitch
Fit straight all rainbow, bitch, you know I'm a fool
Who? mm-ooh, who they talkin' to?
Whack that man and then I do my dance, like, bitch, I been the truth
Get them bands
And do the running man
Now, bitch, go and bring my food, huh
Tell 'em fuck 'em, I been hustlin', I won't leave the stu' (Ooh)
(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Huh, YoungBoy, I'm caught up with steppin'
Bang out, I'm with it, whatever
(Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
I don't need ya' Chelsea
Oh, hell nah
(Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
Credits
Writer(s): Ali Bouali, Kentrell Gaulden, Braylen Rembert, Kalim Pryce, Terrelle Francis Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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