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no topic - blocboy jb lyrics

[verse]
made this song and it got no topic, f-ckin’ your thottie
just got off the phone with yo gotti, he like what’s poppin’?
i moved that pound like a man
down on my knees, i stayed low for some bigger plans
you used to ball, call you chris grant
full of gelato, b-tch you know the stench (gas, gas, gas)
smoke an o so that’s full court
add it up b-tch, that’s a dollar worth
your b-tch she all on my collared shirt
b-tch i told you this ain’t holister
i make her walk like i’m out of there (walkin’)
wrist gold, mouth gold, really everything gold on me
i unload my pistol, turn an opp to a dead homie
you gotta roll though, pull up in four door (skrrt skrrt)
that n-gga a b-tch (why?), he shoot with his eyes closed
i ain’t no ordinary n-gga, b-tch i’m an ordinary k!ller
i got like seventeen choppers and at least forty-seven pistols
drippin’ sauce in this b-tch, now they like whoa
rock revival jeans, fresh from head to toe
say i’m ugly, yeah i know so (i know so, i know so)
but i still can f-ck on your ho (that’s my ho b-tch)
b-tch, go get you some new clothes (some new clothes ho)
you had them black pants up in school ho (you did)
i had them d-ckies in that motherf-cker (in that motherf-cker)
we smokin’ sticky in this motherf-cker (gas, gas)
her name vicky, have a quickie in this motherf-cker (i’m finna f-ck her)
she might give my d-ck a hickie in this motherf-cker (might give a sucker)
hit the club, got my glizzy in this motherf-cker (yah)
two hitters outside in the car, call them the splash brothers (that’s on my mama)

[outro]
no topic
no topic, no topic, no topic
no topic, no topic
three n-ggas outside, best believe that they bloc
yeah they bloc
h-llo?
want that n-gga out of there man, i want that n-gga dead man. i don’t want that n-gga livin’ no more man, i’m just, i want him -ss-ssinated, on crip god, for real, you hear me?
catch that n-gga outside loafin’, loafin’
chopper gon’ bust his -ss open, open
if you do that, them young n-ggas loc-in’, loc-in’
we can’t claim no hoes, f-ck a trophy, trophy
ayy, i don’t even know what to say, ayy
d-mn i’m finna go to the bank, bank
go get me some more cake, cake
and right in your b-tch face, face
finna bring her, beat the face, ayy
finna go and beat that case, yeah
might of [?] earth with the ace, ayy
ball like a pacer, yeah yeah
ball like a pacer, ayy ayy
blocboy jb b-tch, ayy
know how much money i’m making?
money that i’m making —
yeah man, y’all know what’s goin’ on man

- blocboy jb lyrics

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