on3 ton - nights like this lyrics
nights like this
[tag: ton on it like dat]
[chorus] – pop a l!ck… jug it up ….bus it down stack it up…. ain’t no tears for my sorrow …. plan it out…. ain’t no luck
run check ..then we count the fett we don’t talk to feds (2x)… [malithafien] – no we don’t f-ck with the feds, f-ck her then i go leave her on read… & imma aim with the tech, & that sh-t might hit your head…. no we don’t f-ck with the feds…. f-ck her & leave her on read… no that b-tch can’t get text (x2)
[verse 1]
welcome to the city full of thieves and fineness fool yo -ss so silly you’ll scream damsel distress
picture young black n-gga with no dollar to his name tryna chase a legal check but they shoot chances to gain….
so now what youngin mobbin with da crew…. gotta make this quick cash, baby mama needed eat … dear ole mama have cancer…. he’s boy don got hit… it felt like pain on top of problems that was added to his list…. so he hustle tryna find a legal way…. but they ain’t tryna give a brotha like him pay …. zoe hit up all his woes told them meet me at the grove wooady had a jugg in mind man he knew its time to grind it’s done deal
he head to crib to gather things duffle bag, ski mask, & some weapons for his ken ….. tony had it mapped out some boy who serve across his route
….jewels…bread …loud packs.. had to run it all back… like dat
[chorus]
pop a l!ck… jug it up ….bus it down stack it up…. ain’t no tears for my sorrow …. plan it out…. ain’t no luck
run check ..then we count the fett we don’t talk to feds (2x)… malithafien – no we don’t f-ck with the feds, f-ck her then i go leave her on read… & imma aim with the tech, & that sh-t might hit your head…. no we don’t f-ck with the feds…. f-ck her & leave her on read… no that b-tch can’t get text (x2)
[verse 2]
n-gga come pick up your hoe…. i flexed on the b-tch got to go, & i got the packs for the low (2x) yeah you already know… & these n-ggas just wanna hate… but its okay cause i’m in a raf… funna drip down in that bape… white hub on my side & she got the cake…. tell the boy watch how i go… load up the stick point right at your crew…. these n-ggas watching my moves… but these hoes know whats up cause they slide in the news… yeah the slide in the news…. & she suck me up when not in the mood…. f-ck this lil b-tch & i dip yeah this gwap on my hip had that sh-t right on my hip…. i’m in that raf & my b-tch in that yota(toyota)…. she say my d-ck is the cure…. yeah the flow is too pure…. & them n-ggas flaws… & i bet the odds, & i don’t f-ck with the feds….. run up the guard & i run up the bread…. you heard what i said… motherf-cking mali…. hop in the mazi(maserati) literally sell me the sloppy…… yeah these n-ggas bro they gonna copy, versace my body…… tight throat…. point right at your crew…. yeah…… finesse be the game….
[chorus]
pop a l!ck… jug it up ….bus it down stack it up…. ain’t no tears for my sorrow …. plan it out…. ain’t no luck
run check ..then we count the fett we don’t talk to feds (2x)… malithafien – no we don’t f-ck with the feds, f-ck her then i go leave her on read… & imma aim with the tech, & that sh-t might hit your head…. no we don’t f-ck with the feds…. f-ck her & leave her on read… no that b-tch can’t get text (x2)
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