this ain't normal - iayze lyrics
[intro]
(ayy, nine9 really kickin’ sh*t, ya heard?)
ayy, ayy, rrr, rrr, rrr, rrr, ayy (sh*t, nine9 made it)
hey, ayy, b*tch, hey, hey, b*tch, hey (nine9, you comin’ different on this one, yeah)
real murda worth sh*t, b*tch, ayy (sh*t i’m talkin’ ’bout, ayy)
n*ggas know how the f*ck i’m rockin’ (ayy, how i’m rockin’)
n*ggas know how the f*ck i’m rockin’ (how i’m rockin’)
you can take that sh*t with you (you know, ayy)
you better take that with you when you die (when you dead)
you better take with you (you, you can’t take none of that with you)
ayy, ayy, ayy (i know what you gon’ take when you die, n*gga)
ayy, ayy, ayy (all that clout, you ain’t gon’ take it with you when you die)
you can’t take none of that sh*t with you when you die (when the coolin’ kit on your ass)
you know wе t’d up (and smoke your stupid ass, you know i’m t’d up), ayy (you can’t take that with when you diе, n*gga)
and i’m on that, ayy, know how the f*ck i’m comin’ (you gon’ be dead, you know?)
[chorus]
brand*new glock and it got the 5th gen on it
see me an opp and i put a lil’ gen on ’em
she gave me top ’cause she got a lil’ gin in her
.44 bulldog, that b*tch there’ll sick on ’em
say, nine9, this beat ain’t like the usual
spin on that block and we give ’em the usual
they be like, “how the f*ck jace get a tool in here?”
‘fore i get checked, i’d rather be the stupidest
i pour a four in that b*tch and that boy put a two in it, say he the goopiest (goopiest)
four pair of air force 1s i cop, that just two, yeah, he the goofiest
cujo ain’t take his meds, now he seein’ red, yeah, he the looniest (b*tch, ayy)
true religion buddha on my pants, get to makin’ up words, i’m the true*iest (rrr, rrr, rrr)
[verse]
ayy, ayy (rrr, rrr, rrr), b*tch, ayy, nine9, this ain’t like the normal sh*t
i’m gettin’ high on that normal sh*t (b*tch)
i’m gettin’ bands, it’s normal, b*tch
spin like a fan, get sh*t lit
hittin’ his head, he ain’t seein’ for sh*t
he used to ran it, now he ain’t sh*t (b*tch), b*tch (ayy)
double cup, i triple cup this b*tch, tryna get fat as h*ll
she wanna f*ck, i’ma keep on f*ckin’ this b*tch, ass be fat as h*ll
i’m t’d up, they know i’m gon’ do my sh*t, do your money dance, lil’ n*gga
brand*new gun, and i’m tryna shoot that b*tch, throw up your hands, lil’ n*gga
[chorus]
brand*new glock and it got the 5th gen on it
see me an opp and i put a lil’ gen on ’em
she gave me top ’cause she got a lil’ gin in her
.44 bulldog, that b*tch there’ll sick on ’em
say, nine9, this beat ain’t like the usual
spin on that block and we give ’em the usual
they be like, “how the f*ck jace get a tool in here?”
‘fore i get checked, i’d rather be the stupidest
i pour a four in that b*tch and that boy put a two in it, say he the goopiest (goopiest)
four pair of air force 1s i cop, that just two, yeah, he the goofiest
cujo ain’t take his meds, now he seein’ red, yeah, he the looniest (b*tch, ayy)
true religion buddha on my pants, get to makin’ up words, i’m the true*iest (rrr, rrr, rrr)
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