YoungBoy Never Broke Again - Loner Life Lyrics

(Hurt, what it do?)
(Hzrd went crazy on that motherfucker)

You still think about me and don't like the way that I live
Still can't figure out the way my heart is
She know that I'm a problem
"He's alone and not much love, he ain't got nothin'" (woo-woo)
Thirty poppa, game over (woo, game over)
Come out the window, hang over (woo)
Super trendy, put that shit on with no stylist, yeah, yeah
Whole lotta bitches, a hunnid bands like ten thousand, uh

She know I got that bag, I want her bad (woo)
She know I'ma stand on this shit, okay
Turn the phone off 'til my whole grind turn on
Rich and he ain't got no mind, what's wrong?
I got the money, I changed my persona
Bulletproof whip, how I'm gon' hit the corner
I'm in it (woo, in it, I'm in it, yeah)
Standin' on top of these niggas, yeah
Mama, you got it, I did it, yeah
On top of the mountains with millions, whoa (Woo)
My kids gon' have it, they gon' get it (Woo)
I just might go buy my sister a Bentley
I just might give my grandfather a ticket (Top)
She know I'm a thug nigga, I got hitters
And know I got drugs with me
From the bottom, the Nawf, grew up in it
I come home from jail and they wanna put slugs in me
'Cause I'm standin' on business
Don't fuck with them, not a percentage
The pendant got floods in it
Switch the whips and you know they gon' rub different
From the gutter and still in the mud with it
Double R (double R, double R), I take the top off that muhfucker
I pull up in that Rover, it's chalk color
Up inside the Goyard, that's a dirty cutter
I done ran up that fetty on all these niggas
Bullets run like confetti, you played with it
Come from walkin' with holes inside my tennis
I accomplished some goals, ain't playin' tennis (Come on, slime)

You still think about me and don't like the way that I live
Still can't figure out the way my heart is
She know that I'm a problem
"He's alone and not much love, he ain't got nothin'" (woo-woo)
Thirty poppa, game over (thirty poppa)
Come out the window, hang over (woo)
Super trendy, put that shit on with no stylist, yeah, yeah
Whole lotta bitches, a hunnid bands like ten thousand, uh