SINNING lyrics

[Intro]
I got Christian on, she got Christian on, but we sinnin'
I got two styrofoams, but you can't tell what's in 'em
Can't no opps call my phone 'cause they know I stand on business
Me and broke hoes don't get along, kick her with the quickness
Ima get a billion out this sh*t then split it with my n*ggas
All my n*ggas— all my n*ggas— all my n*ggas— all my n*ggas—
(RJ Lamont)
This what we doin'?
(Rell On The Track)
Dame, where the tape at?

[Chorus]
Pink fifties, blue hundreds, I'm f*ckin' up all this money
Maybach, Benz, I'm stuntin', my wrist lookin' like a hundred
My b*tch lookin' like a Barbie, my n*gga lookin' like a hunter
That chop sound like some thunder, I come through, drop a hundred
My b*tch hair is thirty inches, my nеw Glock got thirty in it
Boy, we dizzy 'cause we spinnin', I got FN, bro got FN, guеss we twinnin'
I got Christian on, she got Christian on, but we sinnin'
I got two styrofoams, but you can't tell what's in 'em


[Verse 1]
Can't no opps call my phone 'cause they know I stand on business
Me and broke hoes don't get along, kick her with the quickness
I'ma get a billion out this sh*t then split it with my n*ggas
I'ma go and buy a hundred grams, make a quarter chicken
You keep postin' throwback Thursday pictures, boy, that's past-tense
Stood off with that n*gga so I could see him take his last breath
You can get a bag if I can pull you up on MapQuest
Brand-new foreign for the four, Gucci t-shirts, Gucci drawers
You n*ggas still wearin' [?][1:16] from the mall
If I don't do sh*t in this life, I'ma ball
Boy, this some Tris, I don't sip Incredible Hulk
I barely wanna mix it, I be tryna sip it raw
I f*cked her with a condom, she be tryna slip it off
You say you want some smoke, f*ck it, I'ma kick it off
At work, before you was gettin' off, I was gettin' off
Don't come to me with worker business, n*gga, I'm a boss
The one I'm cut from, they don't even make that cloth
You can get f*cked up in the field like lacrosse
In these streets, gotta look both ways 'fore you cross
And, even though you wear a cross, you'll still get crossed
Walked off on my ex-b*tch, I know she still p*ssed off
I put a bag on you, get the tag ripped off
[Chorus]
Pink fifties, blue hundreds, I'm f*ckin' up all this money
Maybach, Benz, I'm stuntin', my wrist lookin' like a hundred
My b*tch lookin' like a Barbie, my n*gga lookin' like a hunter
That chop sound like some thunder, I come through, drop a hundred
My b*tch hair is thirty inches, my new Glock got thirty in it
Boy, we dizzy 'cause we spinnin', I got FN, bro got FN, guess we twinnin'
I got Christian on, she got Christian on, but we sinnin'
I got two styrofoams, but you can't tell what's in 'em

[Verse 2]
Me and broke hoes don't get along, kick her with the quickness
Me and y'all n*ggas ain't the same, n*gga, it's a difference
Don't worry 'bout who I'm f*ckin', b*tch, mind your business
Ridin' 'round in a chicken coop, but I ain't got no chickens
She can't say she one of my hoes, she don't got no edges
Make bro go up top on you and get him a presi'
My b*tch a gift from God, that's my greatest present

[Outro]
You wanna know what the problem is right now?
Y'all n*ggas scared to be y'all self
Copy-and-paste-ass rappers