Off The Script ft. I.V Lyrics

Yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah

She asked about the rap, I'm too deep in it

Three stacks, so fresh and clean with it

Couldn't trust a bitch, so I sleep with it

Couldn't hit court, my little brother bleed different

Couldn't drive a Ford dog, you never see me in it

Pops free out the slammer, Lord, is we winning

My dog made a play, yeah, the whole team winning

Married to the game, yeah, the whole team vicious

They threw a couple subs, some never seen minutes

In the ocean, deep fishing, I'm at Komodo's deep dishes

Usually take the Honda, but Brody in the Cutless with the deep dishes

Brody bought the block, I'm talking deep ditches

Yeah, fuck

Ain't no left and right, ain't keeping up with you

Ain't stressing about your bitch

Living on the Gram, stressing about pay, go keep up with your rent

Hotbox in the whip, that's why I'm speeding

Windows 5%

They be trying to keep up, well, they not

Ain't no walking in

At the club, keep some slugs

Shawty getting choosy

Off the drink, Tristy sipping mud

Brody caught me snoozing

Ain't no con, bitch, I'm trying to win

Don't believe in losing

Talking tough, my Brody trying to spin

He gon' shoot a movie, shoot a flick

Outside with the gang, this shit get too exclusive

Ride for mine, shit, I'll ride for twin

Gotta keep the Uzi

Why you lie

Dropping dimes, heard you hit the pookie

Wasting time, you is not my kind

Yeah, we something different

These bitches come and go, it's not my choice

Sometimes it is

Your man's a goofy

Seen him at the spot, he can't get in

Talking down, on bro

Sound like your problem, that ain't his

If you love me, homies need a spot

You let them in

What's the problem

My folks, they carry Glocks, some carry six

Ghetto fancy, when she fight

She gon' take off her wig

This my 2019 flow

IV, I think I'm back again

Mixed emotions, can't express

But shit feel like I miss the xans

Ha, but I don't need them though

I talked to my dawg last week

Ain't said a fucking thing

Spliffy, roll it plain

Mixing up my drink, hun

Every day I'm faded, never sober

What you think

Up the score, tell him toro sent the hit

Yeah, I'm leaning off the script

Tell my dawgs to get a grip

Fashion with a blick

Jahs is with the crypt, huh

Ice has got my six

If he snipe, he getting picked off

Hustle, get my nip on

Booyah get his crip on

These rappers getting pissed on

My bitches put her Ricks on

Fashion when she tipstoein

Her ass, I put my dick on it

FN got a clip on it

The Chevy gotta lift on it

Yeah