Aint No Fun

Yeah, bitch I'm in that Benz truck Bad bitch, that'd be rude if you ain't let my friends fuck Shmoney dancin' on you bitches told her, "We can dance, bruh" 50 on my uh (I got Brizzy on the beat, he go crazy) oh, yeah, ayy 50 in my pocket, teacher told me pull my pants up Shorty on my line, she on that bullshit, I can't answer She talkin' 'bout she pregnant, man, she tryna fet me jammed up If she not tellin' lies, you already knowin', what's the plan, bruh? That bitch shit, yellow diamonds on me on some pee shit I'm just tryin' kick it with you baby, you and me shit Blow a bag at Neiman's on a weekend, bitch, I'm geekin' I'ma freak it, take it back up to the telly, Michael Jackson I'ma beat it, post it up and then delete it Choppa do a nigga dirty, got him shakin', got him leakin' Yeah, she mad as hell, sendin' paragraphs, I didn't read it So I blocked her up on everything, I couldn't be defeated, pull up in that AMG Yo, why the fuck do I keep whisperin'? Black seats in a black car, hell yeah, that's what I'm whippin' in I see the goddamn stars, there's no roof or ceilin' in They be like, "Goddamn Chris, how the fuck do you be killin' it?" And I'm richer than a bitch while yo' ass workin' And that choppa turned him to a stripper, got his ass twerkin' Bitch, I'm not the same, nigga, that's a past person Damn, I done broke up with my bitch on her birthday, I'm a bad person Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Try to test me or my niggas, we gon' have to grab guns Damn, rockin' H. Lorenzo bitch, you rockin' PacSun (ooh) Kylie Jenner lookin' bitch, she got her ass done If she can't hit my phone, mm, fuck it, man this rap done Sike, that's not it, you know me and all my niggas we be on that bullshit Got her nigga comin' home, she put me in the closet Bitch, I'm really goin' up, I'm feelin' like a rocket makin' up a profit Who is really killin' shit that's as old as me? Lil' bitch, I'm way too lit, I'm in that drive-thru and they notice me Performin' on the stage and all the bitches throw they bras and all they clothes at me They ask me how I do it, I just do what I'm supposed to be Got a .40 and a MAC and a chop' in a black truck I'm throwin' 50 bands while I'm in school I fuck my class up Around this time this year man, I was broke, I got my racks up Runnin' laps around the bank, I might just fuck the track up Hit 'em with a, "Uh, damn, I just fucked the track up" "Fuck it bruh, you ran that shit, it wasn't even that bad, bruh" Ending of the song, goddamn it dawg, I'm kinda mad, bruh Right before I leave, I gotta tell y'all get that bag, bruh Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none