Ain't No Fun

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Amayajane

2:51

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Popping pills on a nigga, he a crack addict
Rolling with the windows down low, a nigga back at it
He a bitch, he a hoe, nigga, what's up
You a grown hoe, nigga, get your bucks up
I got a 40 with a beam that's my .40 cal
You got a bitch on her knees trying to pull it out
Lick it up, suck it up, damn, bitch Teanna now
Rolling with your chain tucked, damn, I gotta snatch it now
Nigga praise the Lord, damn, gang we saved now
I know a nigga from the boot, he in the bay now
I thank the Lord everyday for my well being
Without God, nigga, who really finna step in?
All this grinding to the top, this shit is hard work
All these hoes on my dick, they just gone get hurt
Hopping from dick to dick, nigga, that's that street work
It ain't no fun if my girl don't let me eat it first
My pops old school, nigga tap his pager
Fuckin' on these old hoes, they call his ass major
He a pain in they ass, they say he player
Shit, he got it from me 'cause I'm the major Payne
Looking to the sky, damn, the stars yeah they shine bright
Looking to the future in my Delorean, yeah, it's aired tight
F*ck nigga, duck nigga, finna eat this pistol
I got a glock 18, blow you like a whistle
You in a jam in that shootout, that's that kill tech
He trying to fight until I swing this 40 to his neck
Pop 'em in the shoulder like Beth did Rio shit
They like good girls 'til they ass get 'em wet
Bitch bad, but she broke, that shit turn me off
Speaking off the dome
Oh, word?
Call me Microsoft
Talking high power on the net, you doing a lot
See me in person, all of a sudden and now you not
It's all or nothing, baby, move before you get got
None to something, everything I got I bought
You pocket watching, steady trying to connect the dots
I'm steady dodging all the hate I get in this spot
Accidentally liked my picture, now her stomach in a knot
What you call it?
Fan fiction 'cause they making up stories about how my character is flawed
If they was having more motion, they wouldn't be living a facade
Got me singing to Kalan 'cause they identity so fraud
I ain't got no certificate but I'm magna cum laude
The way that I'm stepping, bitch, I need an applause
Bitches be talking too much 'til I put they ass on pause
Before you do all that yapping, wash that smell out your draws
And tell your bitch put up some racks
Oh, wait, that's what I thought
Keep the shooter in my purse, I don't carry a glock
It ain't nothing to call up the homie
I know shooters on every block
Poured him another eighth, all he sip on is wok
Baby, when it come to me, keep it short when we talk
Even when I'm off, bitch, I'm always on the clock
The way that I'm monitored, feel like a marketed stock
I told him how it was, tell me why he so shocked
I ain't even got no ass and he still took his shot
It ain't nothing for me to lose when I'm meant for this spot
Trying to change up my destiny, you must think that you God

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