Loner Life lyrics

[Intro]
Hurt, what it do?
Hzrd went crazy on that motherf*cker

[Chorus]
You still think about me and don't like the way that I live
Still can't figure out the way my heart is
She know that I'm a problem, "He's a loner, not much love, he ain't got none" (Woo-woo)
Thirty popper came over (Woo, thirty popper), come out the window, hangover (Woo)
Super trendy, put that sh*t on with no stylist, yeah, yeah
Whole lotta Benjis, a hundred bands like ten thousand, uh

[Verse]
She know I got that bag, I want her bad (Woo)
She know I'ma stand on this sh*t, okay
Turn the phone off 'til my whole grind turn on
Rich and he ain't got no mind, what's wrong?
I got the money, I changed my persona
Bulletproof whip, how I'm gon' hit the corner, I'm in it (Woo, in it, I'm in it, yeah)
Standin' on top of these n*ggas, yeah
Mama, you got it, I did it, yeah
On top of the mountains with millions, woah (Woo)
My kids gon' have it and get it (Woo)
I just might go buy my sister a Bentley
I just might give my grandfather a ticket (Top)
She know I'm a thug n*gga, I got hitters, and know I got drugs with me
From the bottom, the North, grew up in it
I come home from jail and they wanna put slugs in me
'Cause I'm standin' on business, don't f*ck with them, not a percentage
The pendant got floods in it
Switch the wheels and you know it gon' rub different
From the gutter and still in the mud with it
Double R (Double R, double R), I take the top off that motherf*cker
I pull up in that Rover, it's chalk color
Up inside the Goyard, that's a dirty cutter
I done ran up that fetty on all these n*ggas
Bullets rain like confetti, you played with it
Come from walking with holes inside my tennis
I accomplished some goals, ain't playin' tennis (Come on, slime)
[Chorus]
You still think about me and don't like the way that I live
Still can't figure out the way my heart is
She know that I'm a problem, "He's a loner, not much love, he ain't got none" (Woo-woo)
Thirty popper came over (Thirty popper), come out the window, hangover (Woo)
Super trendy, put that sh*t on with no stylist, yeah, yeah
Whole lotta Benjis, a hundred bands like ten thousand, uh