pnb rock - aftermath lyrics
[verse 1]
hey
lately i been on my f-ckin’ sh-t
it’s no compet-tion who f-ckin’ with me
this rap sh-t, i run it, i’m blowin’ this money
these fifties and hunnids ain’t nothin’ to me
i want the royalty, i want the loyalty
puttin’ up money for lawyer fees
’cause i know me, man, i got a bad temper
put one these rap n-ggas right in a blender
pnb: i’m who they’ll always remember
’cause i be k!llin’ sh-t, i spit that realest sh-t
’cause i done did this sh-t, i’m on that different sh-t
copyright all my sh-t, these n-ggas stealing sh-t
i been feelin’ like 2pac and sh-t
all eyes on me, yeah they watchin’ sh-t
study my moves, tryna see what i know
like, “how the f-ck he get so poppin’ quick?”
got a lot of sh-t that’s on my mind
got a lot of sh-t that’s on my plate
gotta feed the fam, gotta feed the hood
so i’m up and down that interstate
doing shows, havin’ different meetings
in the studio, i been barely sleepin’
smokin’ all this dope, i been barely eatin’
in a different city every f-ckin’ weekend
[verse 2]
hey
i’m your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper
i go in the booth and make it happen
it’s amazing how this sh-t just happens
finesse the track without no f-ckin’ practice
lately i get in the booth and i cook up a hit
i’m rollin’, i really can’t miss
these b-tches, they all on my d-ck ’cause they know that i’m ’bout to be rich
i’m ’bout to be rich (’bout to be rich, hey)
blowin’ money on stupid sh-t
me and my n-ggas strapped up in the rag top
but we all on that ruthless sh-t
b-tches, i’m pickin’ and choosin’ sh-t
i’m hittin’ b-tches in twos and sh-t
i swear my life on some movie sh-t
’bout to call chop up to shoot this sh-t, d-mn
[interlude]
hey chop, get the mo’f-ckin’ camera ready, n-gga. let’s make a mo’f-ckin’ movie, n-gga. movie time. where my dope at n-gga? i might get high, let’s do this sh-t
[verse 3]
hey
cash rules everything around me
so you know i keep that thing around me
real n-ggas, yeah, they stay around me
f-ck n-ggas, stay the f-ck from ’round me
hey, i’m ’bout to go to miami
hey, cop a new lay for the grammys
hey, i’m cashin’ out with my family
hey, f-ck you, you ain’t with the family
when i come through, better cuff your b-tch
’cause i’m the type of n-gga that’ll f-ck your b-tch
sing to the p-ssy, do my thing to the p-ssy
and we can get into some other sh-t
got guns, got clips, you ain’t duckin’ sh-t
this for all the p-ssy n-ggas on that selfish sh-t
godd-mn lil’ homie, why you love the b-tch?
you gon’ die for the p-ssy? well, f-ck it then
shot got the mac with the rubber grip
that mean it ain’t no more rumblin’
he gon’ come through and start cuttin’ sh-t
plus we got kev in the cut and sh-t
d-mn!
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