Neva Stop
Lyrics
Real niggas on this side
We Don’t Switch sides
Fuck You thought
All Them Other niggas
That was Fucking With us
With some Other niggas That’s a loss
I Been big tucked
Counting Big bucks
Flipping big coins Like a toss
Lately ain’t been Complaining
I made some Arrangements
To put me in play Like a boss
I Been mobbing with my Nigga sims
Shit was slim
Now it’s Back to the light Show
Back to the Trap
No Cap
Without that
You Niggas Just slight grow
No Muscle
No hustle
No gain
Without pain
Yall in Trouble
We got numbers On da board
Money On the Floor
And it’s some more in The duffle
I got this shit in The bag
No I spit this shit Out the ass
I got my Foot On they neck
No I got my Foot On the gas
I might do The dash
They Hoping I Wreck
I got the check and The bag
Boy you gotta Check in to Cash
You gotta Loan
For everything You Ever had
My nigga what do You Own
Boa you lookin' Bad
Aye
I been doin' my thing
For a While now Neva stop
Had To get around the right Team
For the right tings
That’s the Mob
Real niggas On my this side
We Don’t Dick ride
T hat’s ya job
Twenty four seven Round The clock
I got this shit in The Bag
Real niggas on this on this Side
Blicks in the ride
Fuck you Thought
I was hands high
Got my Hands tied
Wit a baby nine
I got Caught
Randy mossed
They found it on the side Of the car
Not far from me
The doors ajar
The case weak the charges Getting Fought
I Paid my lawyer a bag
Took a loss
Now my mouthpiece
Speak for me monthly
I ain’t even really gotta talk Hoe
I ain’t never stopping Nothing
Like Joel
Sell
A QP
Four onions of nice smoke
Get the weight off like lipo
On the band
You don't understand
I walk a tight rope
Its a clout chasing cycle
Recycled flows
Tryna go overnight viral
Really it's sad
You think you cold but its trash
Just aight
Me and bro acting bad
Selling gas like nicor
Some gone keep tabs
Cause they think its a chance
I might still blow
A bag
I see thru they type tho
Instagram gangsters
They type broke
I see thru thru type in typos
Fuck a club and hype
Till my buzz reach its height
I'm selling bud and white
Or whatever these hypes might blow
This shit in my bag
Hey
I been doing my thing
For a While now Neva stop
Had To get around the right Team
For the right tings
That’s the Mob
Real niggas On my this side
We Don’t Dick ride
That’s ya job
Twenty four seven Round The clock
I got this shit in The Bag
Aye
Real niggas on this side
We Don’t Switch sides
Fuck You thought
All Them Other niggas
That was Fucking With us
With some Other niggas That’s a loss
I Been big tucked
Counting Big bucks
Flipping big coins Like a toss
Lately ain’t been Complaining
I made some Arrangements
To put me in play Like a boss
I Been mobbing with my Nigga sims
Shit was slim
Now it’s Back to the light Show
Back to the Trap
No Cap
Without that
You Niggas Just slight grow
No Muscle
No hustle
No gain
Without pain
Yall in Trouble
We got numbers On da board
Money On the Floor
And it’s some more in The duffle
I got this shit in The bag
No I spit this shit Out the ass
I got my Foot On they neck
No I got my Foot On the gas
I might do The dash
They Hoping I Wreck
I got the check and The bag
Boy you gotta Check in to Cash
You gotta Loan
For everything You Ever had
My nigga what do You Own
Boa you lookin' Bad
Aye
I been doin' my thing
For a While now Neva stop
Had To get around the right Team
For the right tings
That’s the Mob
Real niggas On my this side
We Don’t Dick ride
T hat’s ya job
Twenty four seven Round The clock
I got this shit in The Bag
Real niggas on this on this Side
Blicks in the ride
Fuck you Thought
I was hands high
Got my Hands tied
Wit a baby nine
I got Caught
Randy mossed
They found it on the side Of the car
Not far from me
The doors ajar
The case weak the charges Getting Fought
I Paid my lawyer a bag
Took a loss
Now my mouthpiece
Speak for me monthly
I ain’t even really gotta talk Hoe
I ain’t never stopping Nothing
Like Joel
Sell
A QP
Four onions of nice smoke
Get the weight off like lipo
On the band
You don't understand
I walk a tight rope
Its a clout chasing cycle
Recycled flows
Tryna go overnight viral
Really it's sad
You think you cold but its trash
Just aight
Me and bro acting bad
Selling gas like nicor
Some gone keep tabs
Cause they think its a chance
I might still blow
A bag
I see thru they type tho
Instagram gangsters
They type broke
I see thru thru type in typos
Fuck a club and hype
Till my buzz reach its height
I'm selling bud and white
Or whatever these hypes might blow
This shit in my bag
Hey
I been doing my thing
For a While now Neva stop
Had To get around the right Team
For the right tings
That’s the Mob
Real niggas On my this side
We Don’t Dick ride
That’s ya job
Twenty four seven Round The clock
I got this shit in The Bag
Aye
Writer(s): ISAAC JOHNSON, JEREMY KINSEY, RUFUS SIMS
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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