XityBoyz - No Really (feat. XB Blasé & XB Cartier)

No no really no no really no no really
Yea this perc fucked up my vision
All this syrup that I been sipping
I got broads in different cities
And they all in competition yea
Stars all in the ceiling
Money turned me to a villain
I swear I ain't got no feeling
All this ice on me I'm chilling
Got these hundreds in my pocket
She gone pop it like a wheelie no for really
I'm dripping head to toe yea this Chaneli
Shit go silly I'm plotting on these Millie's
I promise imma get them
I ain't kidding oh no really no no really

Yea she crazy that noggin got my mind blown
Finna pour up all these problems in a styrofoam
We been scheming plotting
Trying to make it now it's time to blow
Put some forgies on the tires
Now they sliding yea they all chrome
Yea I gave your bitch this dog bone
And I did her wrong I made her walk home
Two cell phone clientele like a mile long
Can't tell what I'm on
Bitch these diamonds not no rhinestones
V.V.S in the face got the time froze
Smoke exotic not the Pinecone

And this perc got my mind gone
Rollie two tone and it's filled with stones
Pockets full of cheese I got provolone
Hit my phone what you need I got bricks and bows
Drop that perky in that lean I might overdose
Driving swerving road to road hope the cops don't pull me over
I'm styling Balencegia coat I'm wilding bitch I do the most
Got power pull up in that ghost

Yea this perc fucked up my vision
All this syrup that I been sipping
I got broads in different cities
And they all in competition yea
Stars all in the ceiling
Money turned me to a villain
I swear I ain't got no feeling
All this ice on me I'm chilling
Got these hundreds in my pocket
She gone pop it like a wheelie no for really
I'm dripping head to toe yea this Chaneli
Shit go silly I'm plotting on these Millie's
I promise imma get them
I ain't kidding oh no really no no really

Yea nigga talk down he get whacked
Thirty two shots in a mac
If I get a rari I want it all black
Bitch im a star you can't find me on maps
Pulling up with the chopper with all the attachments
Im in love with the money give a fuck about the ratchets
And my diamonds Dasani little bitch cause they wet

Pull up hop out the maybach
If it's a problem I'm calling the slats
I got this model she throwing it back
Don't even call if it's not about the racks
I spent a whole band on these new Gucci slacks
My bitch a ten and that ass looking fat
Percocet ten put me flat on my back
Mixing the lean with the molly in that
Catch me speeding away in that cat
I got some p's in the back so relax
I'm chasing the cheese but I can't be a rat
Made the four seasons turn to the trap
Just give me a reason you can get wacked
She on her knees her head in my lap

Yea this perc fucked up my vision
All this syrup that I been sipping
I got broads in different cities
And they all in competition yea
Stars all in the ceiling
Money turned me to a villain
I swear I ain't got no feeling
All this ice on me I'm chilling
Got these hundreds in my pocket
She gone pop it like a wheelie no for really
I'm dripping head to toe yea this Chaneli
Shit go silly I'm plotting on these Millie's
I promise imma get them
I ain't kidding oh no really no no really
And this perc got my mind gone
Rollie two tone and it's filled with stones
Pockets full of cheese I got provolone
Hit my phone what you need I got bricks and bows

Written by:
Dante King, Tre'Shaun Lowder

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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