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Never Stopping Video (MV)






YoungBoy Never Broke Again - Never Stopping Lyrics
Official




(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Oh
(Ay-ay-ayo, Bleu)
You know, f*ck wrong with niggas? (Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
(Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
Hmm, oh, huh
Slow down, huh, hold on
Baby, get ya roll, like-
Oh, my eyes f*cked up
Tell her, "Slow down"
Get ya' roll on, f*ck that
Let me start all over, look, hold on, hold on

Nene, I don't need ya Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Keep that camera lens, you play with me, I shoot the scene, huh, huh
Flip my clip then-, huh
Hit that bitch like-

Like, mmm, mmm
I keep that shit inside my system to put up with you
I take this money, buy my cars or some brand new shoes
I had to tell 'em give me bars for to catch my groove
I took that bitch and did her bad in my recording room
I gave that bitch some bands too
I see some shit 'bout church on TV then I turn it off
I ain't talking money, I walk straight off, I ain't tryna hear that at all
Bitch, get me on then top me off, my life ain't script at all
F*cked up, but I ain't f*cked up, thank God I made it out
I'll throw you somethin', I'm turnt up
Youngboy, I stay jaded
You gon' try some', get your head split
You gots to be f*ckin' crazy
Bitch just want my money, she ain't gon' spend it on my baby
This bitch ain't give me nothin', she must thinkin' that she played me
I know that I ain't shit but this ho say that I'm amazing
Ho, bitch, slow down
Told her get her roll on
Please, don't call YoungBoy phone, huh
They thought the legal beat me
Bitch, I'm rich, you can't catch up
I ran it up, they see me and I'm barely showin' love
Put that bitch on TV, huh, huh, I smoke that boy
All my bitches love me, I cut that extra ho like-

Nene, I don't need ya Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Try me once, now want me to take you back
Hell nah, hell nah, huh, hell nah

Ooh, huh
Bitch drunk and mad and dive in my shit, she tryna f*ck up my groove
Know I get mad, as bad as a bitch, and she can't get no shoes
Hop out that bitch, fit straight all rainbow, bitch, you know I'm a fool
Who? Mm-ooh, who they talkin' to?
Whack that man and then I do my dance, like, bitch, I been the truth
Get them bands and do the running man, my bitch gon' bring my food, huh
Tell 'em f*ck 'em, I been hustlin', I won't leave the stu' (ooh)

(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Huh, YoungBoy, I'm caught up with steppin'
Bang out, I'm with it, whatever
(Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
I don't need ya' Chelsea, oh, hell nah (Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Oh
(Ay-ay-ayo, Bleu)
You know, f*ck wrong with niggas? (Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
(Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
Hmm, oh, huh
Slow down, huh, hold on
Baby, get ya roll, like-
Oh, my eyes f*cked up
Tell her, "Slow down"
Get ya' roll on, f*ck that
Let me start all over, look, hold on, hold on

Nene, I don't need ya Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Keep that camera lens, you play with me, I shoot the scene, huh, huh
Flip my clip then-, huh
Hit that bitch like-

Like, mmm, mmm
I keep that shit inside my system to put up with you
I take this money, buy my cars or some brand new shoes
I had to tell 'em give me bars for to catch my groove
I took that bitch and did her bad in my recording room
I gave that bitch some bands too
I see some shit 'bout church on TV then I turn it off
I ain't talking money, I walk straight off, I ain't tryna hear that at all
Bitch, get me on then top me off, my life ain't script at all
F*cked up, but I ain't f*cked up, thank God I made it out
I'll throw you somethin', I'm turnt up
Youngboy, I stay jaded
You gon' try some', get your head split
You gots to be f*ckin' crazy
Bitch just want my money, she ain't gon' spend it on my baby
This bitch ain't give me nothin', she must thinkin' that she played me
I know that I ain't shit but this ho say that I'm amazing
Ho, bitch, slow down
Told her get her roll on
Please, don't call YoungBoy phone, huh
They thought the legal beat me
Bitch, I'm rich, you can't catch up
I ran it up, they see me and I'm barely showin' love
Put that bitch on TV, huh, huh, I smoke that boy
All my bitches love me, I cut that extra ho like-

Nene, I don't need ya Chelsea, nah, nah
Rolls inside my pocket, that's Velveeta cheese, yeah, yeah
Try me once, now want me to take you back
Hell nah, hell nah, huh, hell nah

Ooh, huh
Bitch drunk and mad and dive in my shit, she tryna f*ck up my groove
Know I get mad, as bad as a bitch, and she can't get no shoes
Hop out that bitch, fit straight all rainbow, bitch, you know I'm a fool
Who? Mm-ooh, who they talkin' to?
Whack that man and then I do my dance, like, bitch, I been the truth
Get them bands and do the running man, my bitch gon' bring my food, huh
Tell 'em f*ck 'em, I been hustlin', I won't leave the stu' (ooh)

(Oh, shit, 4reign, you cooked this one up, nigga?)
Huh, YoungBoy, I'm caught up with steppin'
Bang out, I'm with it, whatever
(Sauceboy, shit, what you want me to play?)
I don't need ya' Chelsea, oh, hell nah (Say, Terrelle, let's bring the beat in)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Anass Bouali, Braylen Rembert, Kalim Pryce, Kentrell Gaulden, Terrelle Francis Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.



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