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adin ross - ​​​​iayze lyrics

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[intro]
(rrr*rrr*rrr*rrr)
real murda worth sh*t, b*tch, ayy, huh
huh, young n*gga gettin’ money on camera, n*gga, feel like adin ross, uh (like adin ross)
every time my momma got paid she used to take us to ross (take us– to ross, n*gga)

[pre*chrous]
ayy, i’m clean n*gga, she wanna f*ck, let me beat (b*tch)
clean out the scene n*gga, big ass truck, f*ck up the streets (rrr*rrr)
roll up the weed n*gga, roll the window down, don’t f*ck up the seats
give me a glock man, f*ck a lil’ promag
n*ggas gon’ fold off the g23

[verse 1]
30 gon’ sneak up and [lil’ dee?] creep, mp5 be bangin’ like mp3
i don’t get enough props when i shoot the glock, b*tch, i feel like cp3 (bi–)
i don’t get enough props when i took his thot, n*gga i just saved his life
i don’t gеt enough props, getting guap, laugh to the bank likе chris rock

[chorus]
i don’t get enough props, young n*gga, i know myself a boss (b*tch)
f*cked the bag up just to cut the cost, quit the lean like adin ross (b*tch)
she ride me like a motocross, many n*ggas in your yard built like rick ross
young n*ggas in the dark, they’ll let it spark (rrr*rrr*rrr*rrr)

[refrain]
f*cked the bag up just to cut the cost, quit the lean like adin ross (n*gga)
young n*gga, gettin’ money on camera n*gga, i feel like adin ross (b*tch)
every time my momma got paid, used to take a n*gga straight ross (b*tch, n*gga)
creep up through your bush, hide outside his house, everything he feel is hot
[bridge]
n*gga, hot n*gga (rrr*rrr*rrr, ayy, i love you, baby)
whatcha on, whatcha on? (was tryna say, ayy)
(rrr*rrr*rrr) whatcha on, whatcha on? (i love you, baby, hey, you know i’m gettin’ money)
i’ma just stick with a glock (rrr*rrr*rrr)
a glock, whatcha on, whatcha on? (and f*ck these n*ggas, i’m turnt up)
(rrr*rrr*rrr) whatcha on n*gga, whatcha on n*gga? (you know i go through the most but i don’t put you through that sh*t)
whatcha on n*gga, whatcha on? (whatcha on n*gga?)

[verse 2]
young n*gga, gettin’ money on camera n*gga, i feel like adin ross (b*tch, n*gga)
young n*gga make ’em f*ck up the stamina, get to shootin’ up the block (block)
bad b*tch, let me f*ck her on camera, i never cuffed a thot (thot, n*gga)
young n*gga, pistol on the greyhound, i never take the dot (n*gga, b*tch)

[pre*chorus]
ayy, i’m clean n*gga, she wanna f*ck, let me beat (b*tch)
clean out the scene n*gga, big ass truck, f*ck up the streets (rrr*rrr)
roll up the weed n*gga, roll the window down, don’t f*ck up the seats
give me a glock man, f*ck a lil’ promag
n*ggas gon’ fold off the g23 (bi–)

[chorus]
i don’t get enough props, young n*gga, i know myself a boss (b*tch)
f*cked the bag up just to cut the cost, quit the lean like adin ross (b*tch)
she ride me like a motocross, many n*ggas in your yard built like rick ross
young n*ggas in the dark, they’ll let it spark (n*gga, n*gga)
[outro]
(rrr–ayy, rrr*rrr, i love you, baby)
whatcha on, whatcha on? (was tryna say, ayy)
(rrr*rrr*rrr) whatcha on, whatcha on? (i love you, baby, hey, you know i’m gettin’ money)
(rrr*rrr*rrr) whatcha on, whatcha on? (and f*ck these n*ggas, i’m turnt up)
(rrr*rrr*rrr) whatcha on? b*tch, b*tch (you know i go through the most but i don’t put you through that sh*t)

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