Chuck Paradi$e - Ain't No Time (feat. Baby Jay)

I dont got time for the games
I dont got time for no lames
Thinkin you n****s the same
You was the one to blame
Got me f**ked up feeling this way
I get the money so stay in ya lane
I gotta hop on the jet or the plane
Gettin that paper was always my main
Ain't chasing no n***a thats never my thing
I dont got time for the games
I dont got time for no lames
Thinkin you n****s the same
You was the one to blame
Got me f**ked up feeling this way
I get the money so stay in ya lane
I gotta hop on the jet or the plane
Gettin that paper was always my main

I look at my watch, (I'm checking the clock)
I don't see the time for games
U n****s be playin like neverland ranch
I be in the line at chase (runnin it up)
I run up the bank to keep the sh*t frank
I'm drippin like fisherman droppin the bait
We drownin in money but too up to sink
Shout to the Dunbar Shout to the Brinks
Too much in ya feelings
Told u before no time for the dumb sh*t
I'm rappin my a** off in public
Take ya 2 cents like a push and shove it
Stuck on my grind (B*tch)
You can't get me off less u Johnnie Cochran
Back in my bag I leave you no options
This sh*t 2 Easy like Straight Outta Compton
Go head and bark (Go head and bark)
Go head and start (Go head and start)
Catch u after dark I'm lettin it spark like
Sunset Park (Boom Boom Boom!)
Just get out the way (Whoo whoooo)
I hit the trap got trapped in the maze
Rolled up the bali got slapped with the haze
Thought I was sober but that was a phase

I dont got time for the games
I dont got time for no lames
Thinkin you n****s the same
You was the one to blame
Got me f**ked up feeling this way
I get the money so stay in ya lane
I gotta hop on the jet or the plane
Gettin that paper was always my main
Ain't chasing no n***a thats never my thing
I dont got time for the games
I dont got time for no lames
Thinkin you n****s the same
You was the one to blame
Got me f**ked up feeling this way
I get the money so stay in ya lane
I gotta hop on the jet or the plane
Gettin that paper was always my main

Dropped like a pill, jotting these skills
My flow is sick, her style is Ill
Cut me a check, write me a deal
Cop me a coupe, house on the hills
Fish in the lake, court in the yard
Bank fulla commas, shirt Goyard
I ain't got time for no cheap talk
I'm on my grind and I go hard
Temps on the car, jets at the port
Walkin red carpet Im fresh outta Newark
Steak on my fork champagne in my glass
Statues of me with my name in the grass
Smellin like Moolah keep 3 shooters
Bank fulla commas jeans Goyard
I ain't got time for no cheap talk
I'm on my grind and I go off (B*tch)

I gotta get this cash
Ima blow it fast
I gotta get this cash
Ima blow it fast
I gotta get this cash
Ima blow it fast
I gotta get this cash
Ima blow it fast

Written by:
Chuck Paradi$e, Tim Benifield

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, O/B/O DistroKid, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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