JClay - Right Now (feat. YB)

He talking bout sticks, we bring them sticks out
I might just bring them bricks out
And I can whip it up and hit a nigga with that glizzow
I ain't never touch that work but a nigga getting rich now
He talking bout shit, well he get hit now
Free drinks till eleven how we had to bring the bitch out
I never been absent so you know I ain't gone miss out
Remember I was dead broke i'm just tryna get rich now
We used to poking windows and riding in stolos
I remember fucking bitches in a tenth street bando
Now I got my money right I can't even relate no more
Since I got my heart broke I don't even wanna date no more
I know they get the memo, I'm steady smoking indo
Tryna get money money longer than a motherfucking limo
It be your own kenfolk, they talking through a pillow
Just pulled off in a honda yeah I whip it like i'm wilow
He talking bout sticks, we bring them sticks out
I might just bring them bricks out
And I can whip it up and hit a nigga with that glizzow
I ain't never touch that work but a nigga getting rich now
He talking bout shit, well he get hit now
Free drinks till eleven how we had to bring the bitch out
I never been absent so you know I ain't gone miss out
Remember I was dead broke i'm just tryna get rich now
Pull a caper J Clay we finna turn this bitch down
Kodak boppin on these niggas in the middle of the crowd
Ion even smoke but they say I smell like that loud
Put a nigga on his ass if he talking out loud
Young Black up on the track I swear he making me proud
Astronaut up on my arm boy I be higher than clouds
Aye YB I know they jumping when they hearing this sound
Free Rob G just like the Browns my nigga locked in the pound
He talking bout sticks, we bring them sticks out
I might just bring them bricks out
And I can whip it up and hit a nigga with that glizzow
I ain't never touch that work but a nigga getting rich now
He talking bout shit, well he get hit now
Free drinks till eleven how we had to bring the bitch out
I never been absent so you know I ain't gone miss out
Remember I was dead broke i'm just tryna get rich now
Sippin on hen no I can't prosper, I'm snapping like a lobster
She treat my nut like listerine, she spitting and she goggle
Kicking shit just like it's soccer, i'm balling with no locker
Shawty keep calling my phone Joel Embiid I gotta block her
I got a bad bitch she with me, I know she won't leave me
She love a nigga to death even though she don't believe me
On the road to riches don't be tryna make excuses
So when I get home I have her singing, Whitney Houston
Took a plane up out of Florida, relieve from all that drama
See I woke up in a crib across the street from Loyalhanna
Used to beat the block down, right up under my mama
Alice in the Wonderland I know she thinking and she wondered
Shit be getting deep, and I ain't talking bout my waist
No my name ain't Tyrese but I'm stuck in my ways
Since a yungin I been Hustlin, Bustin em everyday
They told me leave the block I had to hop on a plane

Written by:
Charles Davis Jr, Damon Black Jr

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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