Justin Rarri - BLAME Lyrics

And you know what it do
Ayy
Ayy-ayy, ayy

I said too bad you ain't got no bands
And she give me good top with it, no hands
'Member standin' at the corner with it, low grams
Shorty left me down I was all broken
I said too bad you ain't got no bands
Shorty give me good top with it, no hands
'Member standin' at the corner with it, low grams
Shorty left me down I was all broken

I pull off in a coupe
When you left me I was stressin', ain't know what to do (ain't know what to do)
And the pain I'm feelin' I'ma blame it on you (blame it on you)
Uh, unappreciated I'ma shit right on you (shit right on you)
Nigga, word to my blood, ayy (word to my)
Nigga, word to my-

I ain't ever cryin' to a bitch
.45, nigga, no lackin' like a bitch (damn)
Runnin' my city, who the fuckers tryna diss?
And I be the lil' nigga ridin' with the fuckin' blick
I done cut five niggas that's all about a bitch
I done got five bands then flexed up on that bitch
I got out the streets, nigga, they all up in the mix
Got the grip my niggas ain't playin with a bitch
Yeah, eyes get so blood shot
Uh, look at the head lights (look at the head lights)
Uh, ridin' that foreign got it
Uh, suicide red lights (suicide red lights)
He got a red dot
If he talkin' that nigga a dead opp
Bitch, I don't give a fuck 'bout no fed opps
Grab the blicky, that nigga gon' lay 'em out

I said too bad you ain't got no bands (no bands)
And she give me good top with it, no hands (no hands)
'Member standin' at the corner with the low grams (low grams)
Shorty left me down I was all broken (broken)
I said too bad you ain't got no bands (no bands)
Shorty give me good top with it, no hands (no hands)
'Member standin' at the corner with it, low grams (low grams)
Shorty left me down I was all broken (broken)

I pull off in a coupe
When you left me I was stressin', ain't know what to do (yeah-yeah)
And the pain I'm feelin' I'ma blame it on you (you-you)
Uh, unappreciated I'ma shit right on you
Nigga, word to my blood, ayy (word to my)
Nigga, word to my

Got a freaky bitch call her exotic
And she's suckin' my kids like colada
Want to take all that shit and narcotics
I don't fuck with that shit I'm an artist
If I don't feel that lil' bitch kick her outta here
I just made twenty bands off of recordin'
You try finesse me I'm takin' your mind
I put that nigga right up in the alley

Bitch, I go stupid brazy, go retarded
Ask me no questions, nigga, I ain't start it
All that designer on her, yeah, I bought it
That don't mean shit I left her broken hearted
Linked up another shorty out of state
Kickin' these niggas right up in they place
Caliber shoot a nigga in his face
Hittin' the jets he runnin' from the jakes

I said too bad you ain't got no bands
And she give me good top with it, no hands (no)
'Member standin' at the corner with it, low grams
Shorty left me down I was all broken (broken)
I said too bad you ain't got no bands
Shorty give me good top with it, no hands (no hands)
'Member standin' at the corner with it, low grams (low grams)
Shorty left me down I was all broken

I pull off in a coupe
When you left me I was stressin', ain't know what to do (ain't know what to do)
And the pain I'm feelin' I'ma blame it on you (blame it on you)
Uh, unappreciated I'ma shit right on you (shit right on you)
Nigga, word to my blood, ayy (word to my)
Nigga, word to my-

Got a freaky bitch call her exotic
And she's suckin' my kids like colada
Want to take all that shit and narcotics
I don't fuck with that shit I'm an artist
If I don't feel that lil bitch 'kick her outta here
I just made twenty bands off of recordin'
You try finesse me I'm takin' your mind
I put that nigga right up in the alley