No Discussion Lyrics

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah yeah

Yeah, woah, woah, yeah

Pull that chop and I'm bussing

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

Pull that chop and I'm bussing

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

Pull that chop and I'm bussing

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

I don't give a fuck

Your bitch come and suck me up

Like Roddy Ricch I'm in the cut

I'm with your bitch

She gobbling my nuts

Pull that chop and I'm bussing

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

Pull that chop and I'm bussing

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

Was been bitches

I can not fuck with no was been bitches

You tell then you switch, you some was been snitches

You lost all your money, got was been riches

You don't get no pussy, huh

You know you was been bitchless

Whipping that dope, I'm always in the kitchen

Me and my gang, yeah, we never switching

I don't know what you thought when you came in this bitch

But it's not what you think

I got them VVS's and I put them bitches all up in my brand new cuban link

Look at my closet, you see all designer

You wonder why I be dripping like a sink

She talking 'bout she want money for clothes

So, I just went out and I bought her a mink

Now that I think about it, this bitch with me for cash

Ran out of ammo so I reach in my pocket 'cause I got a blade

We on his ass

Stop at the station to refill his whip

Shot at him while he was pumping the gas

12 down the street so we best do the dash

Smoking this blunt and it's filled with his ash

Pull that chop and I'm bussin'

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

Pull that chop and I'm bussin'

Get back gang, no discussion

Why your bitch call me husband?

I think you just a was been

Running and running, we run like a race

Chasing him down like FitnessGram pace

We caught him lacking, we bust at his face

Wearing a mask, we don't leave a trace

Cutting them off, I can't fuck with the fakes

They get too close, we'll spray them with mace

Fuck off of me, I need personal space

Glock in the box and it's stuffed in the case

Car got the armor on it like the Batmobile

Glock 20, we keep that concealed

Said "Fuck it", and I cracked a seal

Stay low like a navy seal

Won't buy if it the pack ain't sealed

It ain't 100 million, I won't sign that deal

Pussy boy, you better be for real