Testo No Mercy - Quando Rondo feat. YoungBoy Never Broke Again
Testo della canzone No Mercy (Quando Rondo feat. YoungBoy Never Broke Again), tratta dall'album 3860
Doo, doo, doo
Uh, uh, yeah (Pooh, you a fool for this one)
Stars in the ceilin' shit
I make a wish when I jump out the Cullinan (uh, yeah)
Someone grab the scissors 'cause I cut her off
Once I hit, she get passed to my brother them (uh, uh, uh, yeah)
Different color vehicles look just like some Skittles
With two hundred thou' in a duffle bag
I hang with the killer that killed your lil' nigga
Y'all boys ain't no killers, I'm on your ass
Pour up some codeine, I'm sippin' that
I'm goin' cold, cold turkey
Money and molly, it's tucked in the Fendi pack
I don't want no more Perkies
I send my youngin to shoot it up for a bag (brrt)
I can't show no more mercy
COVID-19, we gon' step on 'em with a mask
I'm talkin' closed, closed curtains
When you shoot, ain't no runnin', we dumpin' back
Fifty shots in the drum when we up the mag'
Just to make sure we slump 'em, we gon' double back
Bitch, I come from the slums, out the can, Savannah
My lil' murdered one in the new Atlanta
Swear they say on my head it's a hundred racks
I even got smoke with my own kind
If I tell 'em, your chain get snatched
Who the fuck you been talkin' to? I'm just askin'
Nigga, y'all got my number, but makin' captions
Nigga, since when these niggas been oversteppin'?
Boy, it's up in the air, I ain't givin' passes
Paranoid everywhere, so I keep a ratchet
Bet that cutter gon' make 'em flip, acrobatic
I just buried a hunna inside the casket
Treat my bitch like a Barbie, just bought her plastic
If you don't like me, let me know
Boy, you know that you a ho
Big check like Nike, that's for sure
But yeah, this pipe still in for sure
Before this music shit
I ain't care 'bout money, I was shootin' shit
I don't care 'bout who you is
Your dude a snitch, these niggas know my crew legit
Stars in the ceilin' shit
I make a wish when I jump out the Cullinan (uh, yeah)
Someone grab the scissors 'cause I cut her off
Once I hit, she get passed to my brother them (uh, uh, uh, yeah)
Different color vehicles look just like some Skittles
With two hundred thou' in a duffle bag
I hang with the killer that killed your lil' nigga
Y'all boys ain't no killers, I'm on your ass
Pour up some codeine, I'm sippin' that
I'm goin' cold, cold turkey
Money and molly, it's tucked in the Fendi pack
I don't want no more Perkies
I send my youngin to shoot it up for a bag (brrt)
I can't show no more mercy
COVID-19, we gon' step on 'em with a mask
I'm talkin' closed, closed curtains
Don't do no kickin', gotta get it
I'm tryna get all of my niggas from out of the trenches
I gave her racks for some game
I cover her up in Dior, but mostly, it's Fendi
My bitch be walkin' around with a million
I take her wrist and I set Richard Mille
Look at the diamonds, her bracelet's tennis
Told you to tell 'em it's gon' be a killin'
Really rich, fuck nemesis, I'm the villain
I spent your whole label deal on my Bentley
I tell it right how it is, killers, they keepin' it real
I'm returnin' them with it
Already know how I'm is
One of them niggas gon' die when I come to the city
Four-door matte Jag' with a sack
Got the strap on his ass, nigga play, let it clap, get back
Playin' with the bag, out the flap, it's a wrap
Let it bang at his cap 'til his ass get smashed
From the hotel, we go pick up them bitches
Turn off her phone, she don't know where we at
Loaded gun, tell her, "Leave me 'lone"
I'm the one holdin' them racks
I'm the one flooded with cash
But once you get high with it, it'll never come back
Stars in the ceilin' shit
I make a wish when I jump out the Cullinan (uh, yeah)
Someone grab the scissors 'cause I cut her off
Once I hit, she get passed to my brother them (uh, uh, uh, yeah)
Different color vehicles look just like some Skittles
With two hundred thou' in a duffle bag
I hang with the killer that killed your lil' nigga
Y'all boys ain't no killers, I'm on your ass
Pour up some codeine, I'm sippin' that
I'm goin' cold, cold turkey
Money and molly, it's tucked in the Fendi pack
I don't want no more Perkies
I send my youngin to shoot it up for a bag (brrt)
I can't show no more mercy
COVID-19, we gon' step on 'em with a mask
I'm talkin' closed, closed curtains
Credits
Writer(s): Kentrell Gaulden, Darryl Lorenzo Clemons, Tyquian Terrell Bowman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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