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gettin weird - ebk young joc lyrics

[intro]
we ain’t abidin’ by no motherf*ckin’ rules, man, you know, hotboy
(brody, come in here)
know we wild and reckless ’round this motherf*cker

[verse]
we don’t abide by the rules, i told him play it cool (hey, play it cool)
bro dropped an eight, i dropped a six, man, we ain’t savin’ juice (ain’t savin’ juice)
can’t wait to catch him slippin’, rock up on him with a thing or two (hey, with a thing or two)
big pole, the sh*t i tote’ll knock down a saber*tooth (ah*ah*ah*ah)
b*tch, i ain’t got time today, so i ain’t finna play with you (hey, what the f*ck?)
you broke and bummy, babygirl, i wouldn’t spend a day with you (nah)
ayy, hand it here, let me show you how that kaida shoot (hey, let me see)
up it, blow
when you bust that motherf*cker, better bag somethin’ (better bag somethin’)
me and bro was on that last skit, we tagged somethin’ (just me and bro)
i can’t argue with no n*gga who ain’t had nothin’ (h*ll nah)
or ain’t got it, i told baby keep that bag comin’ (hey, keep it comin’)
that n*gga broke, really a joke, he on the ‘gram bluffin’
i ain’t gon’ cap, we catch your ass, you gon’ get blammed, cousin (you gon’ get blammed, cuz)
cam just caught the fifty, i got fifty, can’t you count, thugga? (hey, can’t you count, thugga?)
not worried ’bout no n*gga who be out here house thuggin’ (ain’t worried ’bout it)
popped a lil’ blood, left on the ground, he d*mn near drowned from it (i know you know)
they caught me walkin’ out of mom’s house, we clapped it out (ayy)
get back gang, we gave they ass somethin’ to rap about (know we did)
i was broke, down on my d*ck, i took the savage route (i took the savage route)
i said f*ck sittin’ down waitin’, what is that about? (i want mine)
i had to get up off my ass like what that bag about? (get off your ass)
uncle kept naggin’, sayin’, “boy, get off your nanny couch” (okay)
cool, calm, and collective, i ain’t with all of that standin’ out (no, i’m not)
he said f*ck what and f*ck who? then we gon’ fan him down (he said f*ck what?)
my lil’ n*gga golden with them glocks, he handin’ grammys out (he handin’ grammys out)
b*tch, we was trappin’ out the shed back in my granny house (back in my granny)
just ’cause i’m poppin’, i bet baby pull them panties down (i bet she do)
i ain’t gon’ lie, my bro get tricky out that f*nny pouch (yeah, he do)
these n*ggas know who really runnin’ sh*t, stop all that cappin’ (you know who runnin’ sh*t)
he a real character, a funny guy, stop all that actin’ (real character)
ain’t did no drill around this b*tch, but n*ggas always rappin’ (hey, what the f*ck?)
was skippin’ class to up them digits, in the hallway trappin’ (to get them bands)
pop sold me nickels from a dime, so i just got to baggin’ (i know he sold it)
this ruler on me, bl!cky on me, so i’m always saggin’ (that bl!cky on me)
was dumb and stupid, wild and reckless, f*ckin’ up the baggies (wild and reckless)
me, hari, durk, wes, and tre was weighin’ out the package (my day ones)
don’t think we won’t, ’cause boy, we will and we could make it happen (i know you know)
lil’ baby boosie, i ain’t lyin’, go’n with all that f*ggin’ (hey, what the f*ck?)
and i can’t wait until i’m rich bouncin’ out of that wagen (bouncin’ out)
yeah, i got bands, but not enough, if i want it, i grab it (this ain’t enough)
they told me, “joc, stop sippin’ syrup,” i said it’s a habit
[outro]
i said it’s a habit
they told me, “joc, stop sippin’ syrup,” i said it’s a habit
(brody, come in here)

- ebk young joc lyrics

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