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no stylist - lp rambo lyrics

[hook]
i don’t got a stylist, don’t need a shopper go get my drip private
bust out the ap all up out my diamonds
i send my homies to deal with his sinus
line of the real n*ggas short as a minus
i’m in the rain still got on my chain your boyfriend wishing he could say the same
he don’t deserve to be saying my name do he want a million dollars or some fame?
aye, i don’t got a stylist, if i’ma pull up i don’t got a driver
i turn your wife to my getaway driver
i told her come to my getaway island
me and these n*ggas never was the same i’m doing my thing in a different lane
and i’ma leave the same way i came
i’ma be rich still can’t afford to change

[verse 1]
skrt, off in the whip
girl leave your man he still got a v6
i’m in the mall louis all that i get she told me n*ggas be all on my drip
i don’t even pay attention to my main i’m not tryna hear about what you became
i’m tryna see what go on in your brain, lil baby you know wassup give me brain
i’ll kick a n*gga some knowledge, liu kang
still pull up hitting these n*ggas with flames
neighbors be coming out and they see brains
gucci my belt and my mood is the same, n*gga i’m gucci
made his sister rain he wanna beef cause she saying my name
if he do bite then i’m changing my lane
not with the talking it go down the drain
i hate what they do for attention
i need to chill all this money i’m spending
you n*ggas fake i can’t hang i don’t blend in
dot on the beam like the end of a sentence
and my bro ’bout to be out the cell i don’t care bout you tricks they free him, it’s litty
fresh as h*ll then i walk through the city
i’m feeling notorius, six feeling biggie
[hook]
i don’t got a stylist, don’t need a shopper go get my drip private
bust out the ap all up out my diamonds
i send my homies to deal with his sinus
line of the real n*ggas short as a minus
i’m in the rain still got on my chain your boyfriend wishing he could say the same
he don’t deserve to be saying my name do he want a million dollars or some fame?
aye, i don’t got a stylist, if i’ma pull up i don’t got a driver
i turn your wife to my getaway driver
i told her come to my getaway island
me and these n*ggas never was the same i’m doing my thing in a different lane
and i’ma leave the same way i came
i’ma be rich still can’t afford to change

[verse 2]
watch how you cary yourself talking trash, might as well bury yourself
he don’t get women he married himself
i got the moves and i’m moving in stealth
uh, n*ggas sneakdissing that’s bad for your health
my bro ain’t prison that n*gga in jail and while he in jail i’m paying his bail
got a money walk i’m leaving a trail
move packs like jet blue flying
try folks and i bet you dying
i’m d*mn near tired of hearing them sirens i’m bout to complain ’cause they ain’t complying
wrist like a constalation it’s orion
that money come in we keeping it piling
bro in the game he close to retiring
he want the work know some n*ggas hiring
i’m always high they call me a pilot
wave’s last name, i swear i be wildin’
you smoking kiddy i’m swearing you childish
you got no bl!ck boy why is you trying?
i was the buyer i met the supplier
say that he banking i know he a liar
i ain’t gone talk put that boy on a flyer
they gone backstab me like they michael myers
(okay, let’s hoop)

- lp rambo lyrics

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