YoungLoner - No Attachments Lyrics

"Why you so quite when you on that mission"
I don't do no talking get straight into business
100 rounds in my chop, I ain't leaving a witness
We gon' swerve round' the block
We aiming for tops
We aiming for cops
We aiming for opps
I just bought this strap it ain't got no attachments
Imma still hit a headshot, my bro got a red dot
Leave stains, looking hot sauce
He gon' pop ya' on my call
Got these niggas mad, cause I had ya' hoe first
We gon' body yo' mans wipe his nose first
I been rolling a eighth like this whole verse
Put that shit in his face til' his nose hurt
I'm spinning shit like the ceiling fan
Have bro do a hit in a mini van
That one nigga bitch was my biggest fan
And we dropping these bombs like in Pakistan (Fye, fye, fye)
100 round drum in the backseat
I drive it around like a taxi
These lame nigga hitting my phone
Asking me when I'm dropping my songs
They never ask me what I got going on
I just bought this strap it ain't got no attachments
Imma still hit a headshot, my bro got a red dot
Leave stains, looking hot sauce
He gon' pop ya' on my call
Got these niggas mad, cause I had ya' hoe first
We gon' body yo' mans wipe his nose first
I been rolling a eighth like this whole verse
Put that shit in his face til' his nose hurt
I'm spinning shit like the ceiling fan
Have bro do a hit in a mini van
That one nigga bitch was my biggest fan
And we dropping these bombs like in Pakistan (Fye, fye, fye)
100 round drum in the backseat
I drive it around like a taxi
These lame nigga hitting my phone
Asking me when I'm dropping my songs
They never ask me what I got going on

"Why you so quite when you on that mission"
I don't do no talking get straight into business
100 rounds in my chop, I ain't leaving a witness
We gon' swerve round' the block
We aiming for tops
We aiming for cops
We aiming for opps
I just bought this strap it ain't got no attachments
Imma still hit a headshot, my bro got a red dot
Leave stains, looking hot sauce
He gon' pop ya' on my call
Got these niggas mad, cause I had ya' hoe first
We gon' body yo' mans wipe his nose first
I been rolling a eighth like this whole verse
Put that shit in his face til' his nose hurt
I'm spinning shit like the ceiling fan
Have bro do a hit in a mini van
That one nigga bitch was my biggest fan
And we dropping these bombs like in Pakistan (Fye, fye, fye)
100 round drum in the backseat
I drive it around like a taxi
These lame nigga hitting my phone
Asking me when I'm dropping my songs
They never ask me what I got going on
I just bought this strap it ain't got no attachments
Imma still hit a headshot, my bro got a red dot
Leave stains, looking hot sauce
He gon' pop ya' on my call
Got these niggas mad, cause I had ya' hoe first
We gon' body yo' mans wipe his nose first
I been rolling a eighth like this whole verse
Put that shit in his face til' his nose hurt
I'm spinning shit like the ceiling fan
Have bro do a hit in a mini van
That one nigga bitch was my biggest fan
And we dropping these bombs like in Pakistan (Fye, fye, fye)
100 round drum in the backseat
I drive it around like a taxi
These lame nigga hitting my phone
Asking me when I'm dropping my songs
They never ask me what I got going on