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NAPPY ROOTS lyrics : "No Good"

[B Stille]
I said Yooooo!

For all them industry haters that said we couldn't do it...
This for my country thug street yeagas!
You know we gon'

Smoke good, drink good, eat good, Fleetwood

Nickel bag of funk'll make a country yeaga sleep good
Yo' hood, my hood, tote heat, sho' should
Folk round here be up to no good

[Verse 1]
[Skinny Deville]

My yeaga lookin like one of them days
I got a Franklin in my pocket, with this lint like a slave
And 20 cent to my name, tryna make this crime pay

Money spent, Ben gone, left me with the Hamil-ton
Window tint, same ol' song
Lincoln on a sack, with the fifty-dat

Bump my song, Get drunk, get it crunk
Country-fried, pack a blunt
Erything tight, Volume 2 off in the trunk, bump

In a slump, head-shot got me pumped like a gauge
Turn the page, flip the script
Hit the script jump, shorty with the dump

In the hatchback, $$# fat
Nickel bag of funk, caught a skunk in a rat trap
Sat back, hit it once, hit it twice, pass that

Mashed-out, Fleetwood, Cadillac, headed South
Woodgrain, Pure Grain, hold it in and let it out
Bouncin' like a bunny hunny, tell the shorty set it out

Get in where we fit in, we gon' try our best to sell it out

[Hook 2x]

[Verse 2]
[B Stille]

We makes it hot for 'em, feel the flames
Who seperate the real from lames
Yeaga B Stille's his name

(Where you from?)
The Ville, LaGrange, to Mills and Fane
Look how far Louisville's done came!

Now break it down

I like my pockets fat

And my weed green
And my liquor brown
And my hens clean

With they panties down
And a beat that keep my yeagas bouncin, bouncin, bouncin, bouncin

Check, check
My mic vocals, is like choke-holds
Fetch the billfold that my cheese is in

And purchase a nickel to help me breathe again
I'm from a place where blood spills and stains
Filled with drug deals and gangs

Yeagas with gold grills and thangs
Drink up, fill ya tanks, spill ya drinks
It's Nappy, dawg, untamed

Southern slang, unchanged
We sendin' slugs through ya brain
($#[email protected] what you know, good)

And all my thugs, for the sane

[Hook 2x]

[Verse 2]
[Fish Scales]

A cool cat, with a pimp hat
Cup fulla Gin-Jack
Dreaded out, throwin up deuces

When I'm headed out
Slice it up and bet it out, 5-0-4
Throw the prices up and set it out
Real ^!$$%z never doubt
Swerve to the calico, give me a deuce of that

Make it 2 of that, pack a tip, flush a Optimo
Keep the change, got to go
Flirt, tryna talk dirty
Georgia-bred, you can tell by my Hawk jersey
Hit me up if you get off early

Then I dap out, so clean
Yo honey actin' mo' mean
Napped-out, momma asking me "What's all that 'bout?"
Say I got big plans, look slim but mapped-out
Country boy with country game

Never spittin' nothin' lame
Get paid to rap, still a dap like ain't nothin' changed
My %#@! stay Nappy, split ends stay happy
Bad threads must've came from his pappy

[Hook until end]

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