No Fifties (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: BABY PLUG]
(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherf*cker up)
Young n*gga
Young n*gga
Young n*gga

[Chorus: BABY PLUG]
f*ckin' a booster, she gettin' me clothes
Beatin' with Rooster, we loosen the knob on the doors
Glock 19 with one in the nose
It's on me, but nobody knows
So much sh*t on me, but nobody knows
Damn, my n*gga done killed my bro
I don't even know which way to go
But f*ck it, thuggin' on my own
Shut up, n*gga, bring that sh*t out
Cook up, n*gga, straight out the pot
I be tryna calm, off these meds, strapped up
Big bruh said, "Why you in the booth?" f*ck the trap spot
I don't give a f*ck 'bout a whole whole hater
I don't give, motherf*ck 12, I'm a landscaper
Young n*gga loaded up, still chasin' paper
Young n*gga strapped, ready to pull your man-card

[Verse 1: Lil Gotit]
I rock designer clothes
Come pull up to the block and jugged at the store
Snakes on my collar, I Gucci'd my clothes
Puttin' them diamonds in that big body Rolls
In traffic, we swap out them poles
I let his b*tch come blow me like O's
A n*gga get slimed, you know how that go
Play with that check, then we breakin' your nose
I'm in that Porsche Cayenne
Exotic, I popped me a Xan'
Popped me an upper, I hope I don't land
He pop it, he pop it, he pop it
But he know he can get smacked like a can
Hundred round for an advance
Mess up, can't wait to go jump out a van
Leave the block hot, yeah, they gon' need a fan
[Chorus: BABY PLUG & Lil Keed]
f*ckin' a booster, she gettin' me clothes
Beatin' with Rooster, we loosen the knob on the doors
Glock 19 with one in the nose
It's on me, but nobody knows
So much sh*t on me, but nobody knows
Damn, my n*gga done killed my bro
I don't even know which way to go
But f*ck it, thuggin' on my own
Shut up, n*gga, bring that sh*t out
Cook up, n*gga, straight out the pot
I be tryna calm, off these meds, strapped up
Big bruh said, "Why you in the booth?" f*ck the trap spot
I don't give a f*ck 'bout a whole whole hater
I don't give, motherf*ck 12, I'm a landscaper
Young n*gga loaded up, still chasin' paper
Young n*gga strapped, ready to pull your man-card (Keed, talk to 'em)

[Verse 2: Lil Keed]
Hold up, please chill, b*tch (Chill)
Hold up, diamonds real, b*tch
Hold up, n*gga talkin' crazy
We Call of Duty kill sh*t (Skrrt)
Shots fired out of that foreign
Yeah, the fork scratchin' glass bowls
f*ck mud, we drivin' side-by-sides on the road (Side-by-sides)
Tear it up, ooh
Yeah, they talkin' 'bout, "Talk to 'em, Prince Slatty Slatty"
Work ethic so crazy, I ain't average
Balenciaga, I don't never wear Bally (Balenci', Balenci')
I ain't gotta finesse, just know a n*gga havin'
Clean image, I ain't get extra tatted
But just know I get extra active
n*ggas on Instagram typin', they laughin'
Well, drop a pin, I'ma pull up straight casket
[Chorus: BABY PLUG]
f*ckin' a booster, she gettin' me clothes
Beatin' with Rooster, we loosen the knob on the doors
Glock 19 with one in the nose
It's on me, but nobody knows (Section 8 just straight cooked this motherf*cker up)
So much sh*t on me, but nobody knows
Damn, my n*gga done killed my bro
I don't even know which way to go
But f*ck it, thuggin' on my own
Shut up, n*gga, bring that sh*t out
Cook up, n*gga, straight out the pot
I be tryna calm, off these meds, strapped up
Big bruh said, "Why you in the booth?" f*ck the trap spot
I don't give a f*ck 'bout a whole whole hater
I don't give, motherf*ck 12, I'm a landscaper
Young n*gga loaded up, still chasin' paper
Young n*gga strapped, ready to pull your man-card