Shawty want me to save her but ain't got no time
Bitch, I'm worried 'bout paper, 24/7, I'm on that grind
We gon' send him to his maker if that f*ck nigga cross that line
What the f*ck I look like chasing you? I'm good my love, I'm fine (Nah, for real)
That's a whole lotta red in my cup, look like some wine
Brand new two-tone Patek on my wrist, that bitch gon' shine
Bitch, I'm smoking real deal Za
I'm so high, it got me crying
Got a bad bitch coming over to my crib, swear she a dime
I just pulled off AMG (Skrtt), No this ain't no Jag' (Zoom)
Pull off GT63, this way too fast (Nah, for real)
Havin' these racks in my Chrome Hearts jeans, I'on mean to brag, yeah
Yeah, I put that shit on everyday, they gon' eat up the swag
Bitch, I'm way too high, I'm off these Percs just like jet lag, yeah
Walk up inside Goyard, spent like 5K on this bag, yeah
Yeah, I'm countin' these bodies fasho but i'm countin' these racks, yeah
Ain't talkin' Lil Baby, I'm four pockets full, my jeans, they sag, yeah (Blatt)
Back in high school, I wasn't worried 'bout shit, I was skippin' that class, yeah (For real)
I'm havin' these diamonds all over my wrist, man this shit is not glass, yeah (Oh, yeah)
Demon 170, took that bitch out, brought it straight to the Drag, yeah (Skrtt, Skrtt)
Bitch, I flex and I ball on these niggas, I'm making them mad, yeah
Told her save them lies, I'on wanna hear that shit no more (No, no, no)
I don't trust nobody, why the f*ck would I trust a hoe?
Yeah, I'm so Far From Average, I swear to god my niggas on go
Yeah, my young nigga toting a ratchet, he itch for a body, he upping the sco' (Blatt, blatt, blatt)
Shawty want me to save her but ain't got no time
Bitch, I'm worried 'bout paper, 24/7, I'm on that grind
We gon' send him to his maker if that f*ck nigga cross that line
What the f*ck I look like chasing you? I'm good my love, I'm fine (Nah, for real)
That's a whole lotta red in my cup, look like some wine
Brand new two-tone Patek on my wrist, that bitch gon' shine
Bitch, I'm smoking real deal Za
I'm so high, it got me crying
Got a bad bitch coming over to my crib, swear she a dime
No Time Video (MV)
Countinbodiez - No Time Lyrics
Official
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Shawty want me to save her but ain't got no time
Bitch, I'm worried 'bout paper, 24/7, I'm on that grind
We gon' send him to his maker if that f*ck nigga cross that line
What the f*ck I look like chasing you? I'm good my love, I'm fine (Nah, for real)
That's a whole lotta red in my cup, look like some wine
Brand new two-tone Patek on my wrist, that bitch gon' shine
Bitch, I'm smoking real deal Za
I'm so high, it got me crying
Got a bad bitch coming over to my crib, swear she a dime
I just pulled off AMG (Skrtt), No this ain't no Jag' (Zoom)
Pull off GT63, this way too fast (Nah, for real)
Havin' these racks in my Chrome Hearts jeans, I'on mean to brag, yeah
Yeah, I put that shit on everyday, they gon' eat up the swag
Bitch, I'm way too high, I'm off these Percs just like jet lag, yeah
Walk up inside Goyard, spent like 5K on this bag, yeah
Yeah, I'm countin' these bodies fasho but i'm countin' these racks, yeah
Ain't talkin' Lil Baby, I'm four pockets full, my jeans, they sag, yeah (Blatt)
Back in high school, I wasn't worried 'bout shit, I was skippin' that class, yeah (For real)
I'm havin' these diamonds all over my wrist, man this shit is not glass, yeah (Oh, yeah)
Demon 170, took that bitch out, brought it straight to the Drag, yeah (Skrtt, Skrtt)
Bitch, I flex and I ball on these niggas, I'm making them mad, yeah
Told her save them lies, I'on wanna hear that shit no more (No, no, no)
I don't trust nobody, why the f*ck would I trust a hoe?
Yeah, I'm so Far From Average, I swear to god my niggas on go
Yeah, my young nigga toting a ratchet, he itch for a body, he upping the sco' (Blatt, blatt, blatt)
Shawty want me to save her but ain't got no time
Bitch, I'm worried 'bout paper, 24/7, I'm on that grind
We gon' send him to his maker if that f*ck nigga cross that line
What the f*ck I look like chasing you? I'm good my love, I'm fine (Nah, for real)
That's a whole lotta red in my cup, look like some wine
Brand new two-tone Patek on my wrist, that bitch gon' shine
Bitch, I'm smoking real deal Za
I'm so high, it got me crying
Got a bad bitch coming over to my crib, swear she a dime
Bitch, I'm worried 'bout paper, 24/7, I'm on that grind
We gon' send him to his maker if that f*ck nigga cross that line
What the f*ck I look like chasing you? I'm good my love, I'm fine (Nah, for real)
That's a whole lotta red in my cup, look like some wine
Brand new two-tone Patek on my wrist, that bitch gon' shine
Bitch, I'm smoking real deal Za
I'm so high, it got me crying
Got a bad bitch coming over to my crib, swear she a dime
I just pulled off AMG (Skrtt), No this ain't no Jag' (Zoom)
Pull off GT63, this way too fast (Nah, for real)
Havin' these racks in my Chrome Hearts jeans, I'on mean to brag, yeah
Yeah, I put that shit on everyday, they gon' eat up the swag
Bitch, I'm way too high, I'm off these Percs just like jet lag, yeah
Walk up inside Goyard, spent like 5K on this bag, yeah
Yeah, I'm countin' these bodies fasho but i'm countin' these racks, yeah
Ain't talkin' Lil Baby, I'm four pockets full, my jeans, they sag, yeah (Blatt)
Back in high school, I wasn't worried 'bout shit, I was skippin' that class, yeah (For real)
I'm havin' these diamonds all over my wrist, man this shit is not glass, yeah (Oh, yeah)
Demon 170, took that bitch out, brought it straight to the Drag, yeah (Skrtt, Skrtt)
Bitch, I flex and I ball on these niggas, I'm making them mad, yeah
Told her save them lies, I'on wanna hear that shit no more (No, no, no)
I don't trust nobody, why the f*ck would I trust a hoe?
Yeah, I'm so Far From Average, I swear to god my niggas on go
Yeah, my young nigga toting a ratchet, he itch for a body, he upping the sco' (Blatt, blatt, blatt)
Shawty want me to save her but ain't got no time
Bitch, I'm worried 'bout paper, 24/7, I'm on that grind
We gon' send him to his maker if that f*ck nigga cross that line
What the f*ck I look like chasing you? I'm good my love, I'm fine (Nah, for real)
That's a whole lotta red in my cup, look like some wine
Brand new two-tone Patek on my wrist, that bitch gon' shine
Bitch, I'm smoking real deal Za
I'm so high, it got me crying
Got a bad bitch coming over to my crib, swear she a dime
Writer: C B
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid