No.Hook
No.Hook

LNS Masu - No.Hook Lyrics

2
No.Hook Music Video

No.Hook Lyrics

Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Squad with the 8
Bakin his face
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Fuck all your money bitch
Fuck all your fame
Your girl comin over
She givin me brain
She givin me top
She givin me face
Smokin my kushie
I might hit a stain
If you talk to cops
Then you prolly a snitch
If you talk to cops
Then you prolly a snake
Don’t fuck with a fake
Don’t fuck with a lame
If you ain’t got gas
Then your ass cannot hang
Your ass cannot stay
Your ass cannot play
We up with the shits and
We up with the gang
I’m packin my shit
I fuck then I dip
You keep on sneak dissin
I blam you wit it
I want it I get
I bag it up quick
I’m hearin the sirens
Reloadin my clip
So I get it up
I might bring her down
Givin me head and
I’m givin her crowns
I’m up in the city
The hottest in town
Clap it right back
Bring the beat to the ground
I’m smokin on loud
You cant hear a sound
I do it for momma
I hope that she proud
Timin so perfect
I’m feelin it now
The drugs in my system
I’m feelin profound
I do it for bro
Put one in your dome
Let off my nina
Cuz papi is home
I’m up in my zone
I’m passin these hoes
Gettin the pack ya
The gas for the low
I’m cold like the snow
I sniff it like coke
Pour lean in my Fanta
Pour lean in my Coke
The glizzy gon’ blow
We enter your home
We lettin off hunna
We let off the poles
Don’t fuck with a bitch
Don’t fuck with a snitch
They locked his ass up
I ain’t fuckin with Smith
We finna run up
On him with a clip
We lettin it off
Leavin him in the ditch
My niggas so rich
Can’t hang wit the clique
Lettin it off cuz he talk to the feds
Lettin it off cuz he talk to the feds
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place

Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Squad with the 8
Bakin his face
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Fuck all your money bitch
Fuck all your fame
Your girl comin over
She givin me brain
She givin me top
She givin me face
Smokin my kushie
I might hit a stain
If you talk to cops
Then you prolly a snitch
If you talk to cops
Then you prolly a snake
Don’t fuck with a fake
Don’t fuck with a lame
If you ain’t got gas
Then your ass cannot hang
Your ass cannot stay
Your ass cannot play
We up with the shits and
We up with the gang
I’m packin my shit
I fuck then I dip
You keep on sneak dissin
I blam you wit it
I want it I get
I bag it up quick
I’m hearin the sirens
Reloadin my clip
So I get it up
I might bring her down
Givin me head and
I’m givin her crowns
I’m up in the city
The hottest in town
Clap it right back
Bring the beat to the ground
I’m smokin on loud
You cant hear a sound
I do it for momma
I hope that she proud
Timin so perfect
I’m feelin it now
The drugs in my system
I’m feelin profound
I do it for bro
Put one in your dome
Let off my nina
Cuz papi is home
I’m up in my zone
I’m passin these hoes
Gettin the pack ya
The gas for the low
I’m cold like the snow
I sniff it like coke
Pour lean in my Fanta
Pour lean in my Coke
The glizzy gon’ blow
We enter your home
We lettin off hunna
We let off the poles
Don’t fuck with a bitch
Don’t fuck with a snitch
They locked his ass up
I ain’t fuckin with Smith
We finna run up
On him with a clip
We lettin it off
Leavin him in the ditch
My niggas so rich
Can’t hang wit the clique
Lettin it off cuz he talk to the feds
Lettin it off cuz he talk to the feds
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place
Run up the pack
Then we run out the place

Writer(s): Adnan Benedict
Copyright(s): Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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