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young roddy - still tryna get it lyrics

let this b-tch breathe fo a minute…
let that b-tch breathe fo a minute…
but what that is?

[verse 1]
so it’s back to the block to make moves
i gotta get that loot, stack that money like a jew
it’s on to the next, my old girl old news
and my paint job china white i make yo b-tch drool
i bet he don’t got a clue, she send pics to me nude
turn that kitty into a pool, i’m a fool
sh-t, that slow dough will give yo -ss the blues
that og keep my eyes suu woo
but i’m all about my green, by all means that’s the truth
since a teen i been that dude, give me room
daydreaming about a coup on 22’s
but in reality i’m sitting on this stoop
i’ve seen cops beat a n-gga black and blue
i swear they don’t know me from my can of soup
i’m highed up, higher than your penthouse roof
this that good sense 2 follow by the k!ller loot, n-gga

[hook]
and i got a lil big money, but i’m still tryin’ get it
still on my paper mission, still handle my business
i love my sisters, i don’t love no b-tches
make a b-tch cry a lake, better yet cry a river
that’s cold as december, i’m f-cking up my lungs
my dawg f-cking up his liver from this weed and all this liquor
and we still don’t give a, you know

[verse]
try to smoke away my problems, but that ain’t work
and for a quick dollar they head first
i finally got some leather on my headrest
flow so sick, it need bed rest
hustling like i ain’t got no cash left
in this bfa until my last breath
and ain’t sh-t changed but my address
old school with it, money in my mattress
label me a n-gga man a braveheart
true hustler, grinding with no days off
tryin to get it while i’m still living
blowing piff in a whip with no ceiling
try not to make the news, try and shake the penitentiary
and i still say a prayer for my enemy
she stuck around when i was down, that’s a down b-tch
she got good sense, she ain’t on no clown sh-t

[hook]
and i got a lil bit money, but i’m still tryin’ get it
still on my paper mission, still handle my business
i love my sisters, i don’t love no b-tches
make a b-tch cry a lake, better yet cry a river
that’s cold as december, i’m f-cking up my lungs
my dawg f-cking up his liver from this weed and all this liquor
and we still don’t give a, you know

- young roddy lyrics

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