icewear vezzo – no time lyrics
no time, n-gga. i ain’t waiting for sh-t my n-gga
(whuttttt)no time for the f-ck sh-t
tell the judge he could suck d-ck. (f-ck on!)
(meech what it look like?)(tell the judge!)
verse 1 – icewear
yeah, hit my lawyer wit a half brick
told him if i get some time, n-gga hide this
so when a n-gga touch down i can grind quick
but if a n-gga skip town they won’t find sh-t
hit my brother rick up for a couple dollas (wuddup doe)
kiss my nephew on the head and i love my mama
thinking bout my brother rez i just love to call him
he told me money was the problem and i love to solve em’
see he died in the feds of an aneurysm
think about him every night, godd-mn i miss him
on the flight when g died, i was handlin’ bidness
they left my baby by the dishes, blind him in the kitchen
got a tweet about who did it through @ mention
but that’s the devil tryna make me make a bad decision
shook my head fifty times cuz it had me twisted
i’m gettin bread makin rhymes plus im baggin b-tches
chorus
i got no time for the f-ck sh-t
tell the judge he could suck d-ck
this should don’t never really matter making much sense
came up from the bottom, now i’m up quick
no time for the f-ck sh-t (f-ck sh-t)
tell the judge he could suck d-ck
this should dont never really matter making much sense
came up from the bottom, now i’m up quick
verse 2 – icewear
it be the ones closest to ya that’ll do ya bad
the same n-ggas that ya feed and let em move ya bag
they say money make you evil whether good or bad
fast lane got me speedin ima do that dash
f-cked up how they did my little n-gga scooter
prolly never wouldve died if he was with some shooters
they say its cold in the d, but its gettin cooler
bring it to him in his sleep, call me mr. crougar
i remember countin’ twenty in the suv
f-ckin with the homie smoke, n-gga smb
that’s the seven mile bloods, they’ll wetcha t–th
real n-ggas show me love, yeah they mess wit me
never let a n-gga play me til the death of me
pour some lean and i learned my own recipe
hit the club fifty deep with the tech with me
i blow a n-gga like a whistle from a referee
chorus
verse 3- hardwork jigg
(hardwork n-gga! wuddup my n-gga vezzo? free smokie)
no question, when it comes to strap they blue glued on
my lil homies make about thirty in the school zone
my og’s keep n-gga plugged like a light switch
how you think i came home and bounced back, mike vick
b-tch i’m from the east, seven is the mile
rip to perry, i need my n-gga now
ot with the yellows, pounds of the reggos
i’m stackin up them green guys, wuddup my n-gga vezzo?
thirty in the bezzle, thirty in the pump
styrofoam for the lean, its lookin dirty in my cup
im an eastside n-gga, f-ckin westside broads
couple lil n-ggas wit me stealin westside cars
no time for the f-ck sh-t so im known to bust sh-t
bust clips and bust scrips and send em on a bus trip
b-tch its hardwork yeah im eastside trippin
28’s on the oldies got me tree high sittin mof-cka
chorus
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