Jay Nic - So Sick

Woop, woop, ahh, yeah
Im sick of
Sick of actin' like I ain't the hardest in my city
Sick of pretending like your girl ain't tryna get real, real jiggy
Sick of, carrying these one's I want hundreds and all the fifties
To throw them in the air and make ya momma show me her
Sick of actin' like I ain't the hardest in my city
Sick of pretending like your girl ain't tryna get real, real jiggy
Sick of, carrying these one's I want hundreds and all the fifties
Throw em in the air and make ya daddy show me his
Now what you talkin' bout Will
Jay too ill
Beat too funky, stank good
Like she hit 'em witta fruit smell
Sick of given out my credentials and the details
Next dunce ask who I am, Imma send 'em to voicemail
Oh what you thought Jay gon' get violent
Naw goofy nigga just gon' put your ass on silent
She think she the flyest, hell yeah I'm the pilot
Choesen One, Golden Child ain't no denying that
Like when she step on the scene, she got her foot on they necks
Initially tried to diss 'er but now all she get is repect
Mumblin', grumblin' and rumblin' talkin who gon' be up next
Who leads the pack, who number one, who gon' be the best
I told 'em sit back relax, dis dat beep bap
Mixed up some drinks, told them sip that
Hit that stage, spit that heat crack
Beat drop, aye Unnladylike bring the beat back
Sick of actin' like I ain't the hardest in my city
Sick of pretending like your girl ain't tryna get real, real jiggy
Sick of, carrying these one's I want hundreds and all the fifties
To throw them in the air and make ya momma show me her
Sick of actin' like I ain't the hardest in my city
Sick of pretending like your girl ain't tryna get real, real jiggy
Sick of, carrying these one's I want hundreds and all the fifties
To throw em in the air
And with a hustle like Jay Z
Mind on J. Cole
Ass on J-Lo
But the flows all me though
Jay gon' perplex the bitch
Wined it up we makin' hits
Sucka rapper you hella dapper but on God you ain't sayin shit
Uhhhhn, disrespect thats your neck
Uhhhhhhhn, aye daddy grab the tech
No lame nigga don't bother, and please go no further
Shooting in the gym and the field with my father uh
Sick of acting like I ain't the hardest in my city
Pretending like your girl ain't tryna show me her
Aye it's that Big Mac, special sauce with the three stacks
Where you from Jay, where you lay your head and feet at
On the right side, born on the left side, the west side, the best side
Where we known to smoke away our stress right
You know them playas and pimps is know to ghost ride and say slick shit like
How you gay but got all them thick thighs
Sick of actin' like I ain't the hardest in my city
Sick of pretending like your girl ain't tryna get real, real jiggy
Sick of, carrying these one's I want hundreds and all the fifties
To throw them in the air and make ya momma show me her
Sick of actin' like I ain't the hardest in my city
Sick of pretending like your girl ain't tryna get real, real jiggy
Sick of, carrying these one's I want hundreds and all the fifties
Throw em in the air and make ya daddy show me his woop
Ahhh
Ffff, nigga
Throw it in the air make ya parents they
Wow, WOW
If that ain't unnladylike
Said throw it in the air make ya momma show me her
(Leave their moms out of this) fuck no, love you moms
Throw it in the air and make ya daddy show me his
(Wow, the fuck does he have to do with this)
Oh he can be there, ooo yeah
Aye, throw it in the air and make ya grandma show her
Ok Jordan, there's a line, I've crossed it and I'm aware
Throw it in the air make ya momma show me her

Written by:
Jordan Thurman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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