No Love Shemix lyrics

[Intro]
Grr, Run It Up

[Chorus: J.K. Mac]
Callin' my sh*t like hold on (Hold on)
She tryna f*ck sumn
All on my trap phone
Slide if you want to
Way that you talking
You finna leave with yo' back blown

[Verse 1: Flo Milli]
He callin' my sh*t like (Huh?)
Let me pick it up, let me get right (Hello?)
I done went ghost, now he all alone (Bye)
Bet he tryna see what that P like
I told that n*gga, "Speak to them greenlights"
I can't stop until I hear a moan
We get together, don't answer the phone (Put it down)
They be trippin' like, baby, we grown
Baby, we grown
They sayin' "Yo' b*tch perfect" (Hello?)
You get to spinnin' thе block, they hurtin'
Bad ass b*tch, you can tell by the waist
Don't hit from thе back, I'm pretty in the face
Okay, I just been holdin' my weight
And believin' a b*tch tryna eat off my plate
Okay, tryna cross me, I'ma give you a taste
He wanna save a ho, give him a cake
I know these hoes wanna be me
Blue face bands to the bank, I'm a Keke
sh*ttin' on hoes 'cause I can and it please me
Shakin' my ass, he ain't know I was freaky (Ooh)
Ayy, white toes, Malasian on a bundle
He whipped it out, I saw a anaconda
I just wake up and think about the hundos
I can't go back and forth with a n*gga that's fine
But it ain't no love in this b*tch (No love)
Hop out with J.K., my n*gga be poppin' this sh*t
I always knew I would be rich
I came from the bottom now I'm at the top of they list
I tell a ho she can dip (Bye)
Fly ass b*tch, can't copy this drip
He wanna go on a trip
When I hop on it, I hope he can handle this c*nt
[Bridge: Flo Milli]
Callin' my sh*t like
Let me pick it up, let me get right
Yeah, yeah, callin' my sh*t like
Let me pick it up, let me get right

[Verse 2: Maiya The Don]
I'm f*ckin' some hoes, no problem (No problem)
These all black pumps got red at the bottom (Yeah)
Yeah, I'm from Brooklyn
But I'm good on all hoods from Fordham to Harlem (Brooklyn)
Ain't no competition, I'm lookin' a bum and you fit the description
Clutch on my wrist, watch how it glisten, it's time Maria lux all on my inches (Bow)
Any b*tch step to me get stepped on (Stepped on)
Seven-figure talk just to f*ck with the big Don (Yeah)
I pop sh*t through my big ones, take a whole salary, ice out my left arm (Ice, ice)
Tell a ho, "Google me," I been that girl, this attention ain't new to me
Shorty subtweetin' and won't say my name (pus*y)
Put an at on it since I don't do ambiguity
b*tches is boring, respectfully
I say what I want and ain't nobody checkin' me
Why would you watch me from fake pages? (Huh?)
Admit it, lil' b*tch, you high-key obsessed with me
Rich b*tch status, you know my swag is
Iced out diamonds, low mein jackets
I'm the biggest, you play me again
I broke the record for sh*ttin' on b*tches
[Chorus: J.K. Mac]
Callin' my sh*t like hold on (Hold on)
She tryna f*ck sumn
All on my trap phone
Slide if you want to
Way that you talking
You finna leave with yo' back blown

[Verse 3: Trina]
Callin' my sh*t, I'm like, "Hold on" (Hold on)
I ain't in the states, I'm in Paris gettin' swiped on
Gettin' f*cked on, makin' yo' n*gga wine and dine me 'til them racks gone
A badass b*tch with a strobe light wrist
Since I hopped off the porch
I've been that b*tch
She say she hotter, she don't exist
No b*tch standing next to this, uh
I'm hotter than lava (Yeah)
Let's keep it real, b*tch, I been a problem
She doing a dash, she back in her bag
And all that she after is commas
She don't do the drama (Nah)
Stay in your lane, you don't wanna wake up my other persona
I don't do rappin', gon' need you a donor, this b*tch in a coma
Smell the aroma
Can't breathe, b*tch, 'cause I'm f*ckin' ammonia
Then the pneumonia
Bring in the body bag, throw a sheet on her
Then do a quickie
Call up a n*gga and slip him a mickey
Give him a hickey while he up in me
And all of that money, I'm takin' it with me (Hahaha)
[Outro: Flo Milli]
Callin' my sh*t like
It ain't no love in this b*tch
Yeah, yeah, callin' my sh*t like
It ain't no love in this b*tch
I done went ghost, now he all alone
Bet he tryna see what that P like
Tell a n*gga he can dip