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young slo-be - this ain't nun new lyrics

[intro]
(bucky made a slap)

[verse 1: young slo_be]
float like a b_tterfly, sting like a bee, n_gga
ruler on me, mr. slo_be, i’ll teach n_ggas
n_ggas foul, n_ggas always tryna reach, n_gga
side talker, sidewalker, hop in the streets, n_gga
(lil’ b_tch, go’n f_ck it up
doin’ all that talkin’, n_gga d_mn near got his b_tch f_cked
big dog, n_gga, but i’ll be d_mned if i got my tail tucked
ooh_wee, i’m on the block, n_gga, catchin’—)
on a monday, n_gga
(ayy, kk broke the scale
tryna weigh two pounds, f_cked up the count, n_gga almost failed)
on a tuesday, n_gga
(ayy, i give you taco sh_lls
walk around this b_tch bored, let’s go drop somethin’)

[verse 2: ebk young joc]
all my n_ggas gettin’ money, send a package down the way
when this chopper hit his ass, watch him do the harlem shake
never see you in the kitchen, boy, you hardly movin’ weight
holdin’ up that lil’ chain in them pictures, boy, it’s fake
spin your block, now it’s wrapped in yellow tape
juvie with the tooly, durk and trey, them my snakes
manu ginóbili, a sharp shooter, free my ape
n_ggas talkin’ ’bout ballin’, let me know where your pape’
book me for a show, we ain’t worried, we got drac’
told my daughter watch my soda, she know daddy sippin’ drank
boy, this pop mixed with yola, play your cards, ace of spade
two hundred on the dash, i’m sick n_ggas tryna race
[verse 3: ebk juvie]
ain’t no question, guaranteed i’ma turn up
brodie keep torch, i just point, he gon’ burn somethin’
i ain’t seen brodie in a while, this like the third summer
slappin’ don dada with the shottas, got the curb jumpin’
if i shoot, brodie, he gon’ shoot, this sh_t vice versa
mad face, holdin’ on the drank, ain’t no nice person
quick to slap a b_tch, watch your lips, i’m like ike turner
ooh_wee, nah, this ain’t nothin’ new
joc gon’ act an ass in the ‘cat ’cause he up a few
speakin’ on my name to the b_tch, that’s what suckers do
thirty_eight hold six shots, that sh_t h_lla cute
ayy, ayy, n_gga, but it’s too small
too much beef, can’t fit ’em all in a u_haul
she was actin’ stingy with the pack, i cut boo off
he a b_tch, half stick on him, but let two off
ayy, half stick, but let two off

[verse 4: bris]
ayy, the glock got gonorrhea, ’cause the d_ck burnin’
i have them shooters hit your block, i be big wormin’
big pole on my waist, got my hip hurtin’
and your hood was ghost town, but we ain’t quit lurkin’
your b_tch ass in the house, you a housewife
and i be outside, they freed bris from that count time
i’m really ’bout mine
stackin’ bands, look, the amount climbin’
tryna outshine
but bullets rippin’ through the house blinds
and these n_ggas lil’ dogs, real ankle biters
this chopper drop an elephant like a tranquilizer
this k a lighter, let it spark, who wanna play with fire?
yeah, true story be the gang, i really hang a liar
do the dash in this whip, man, it’s a sport_plus
if you runnin’, knock him down and then torture
we gon’ jump out his bushes when his door shut
40 by the air conditioner, keep the blower tucked
[outro]
(bucky made a slap)

- young slo be lyrics

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