Cant Hang lyrics

[Intro]
Makin' that boy run like, what? Ayy
Makin' that boy run like, hold up
Gang
(Hey, where's Rolo?)
Ayy

[Chorus]
Makin' that boy run like this sh*t a lap
Know I'm 317, know I rep the 'Nap
No time for no beefin', n*gga, what's that?
I really got brothers who move that pack
I really know brothers that's in that trap
My songs don't miss, know that sh*t is a slap
Not shaking your hand, not givin' no dap

[Verse 1]
Not worth my time, boy, cut the chit-chat
Had to take his girl, had to get his b*tch back
That Junya on me, know it's mismatch
And I know that they mad because of that fact
And he not gon' spin, not gon' spin back
And he totin' that gun, that's a fake strap
Oh, you want a hit? I'ma make that
I'ma make this sh*t happen
And no, I'm not mo'f*ckin' cappin'
Pull up on me and we finna get crackin'
Huh, not talkin' 'bout monsters
Don't give a f*ck what you say, you can't taunt us
I don't like beef, 'cause I got honors
He see a little fame and that lil' boy ponder
I got some sons in this sh*t, no sonder
All black fit on my body, like DONDA
Whitе plug, I think that n*gga name Connor
I need a vacation, might hit Tijuana
[Interlude]
Ayy, and they wanna play with the kid
Shoutout to my n*gga Carti, wе takin' that boy off the grid
Ayy, throwback to a couple summers ago, I was up in Madrid
Ayy, and my name might be midwxst, but I ain't ever make mid
b*tch

[Verse 2]
Stop playin' with me
Don't hit my phone, can't hang with me
And I still got the same damn gang with me
When I drop a lil' song, know they thanking me
I know all this pain just temporary
And I made a couple bands in January
'Bout to make a couple more in February
Don't talk to me, it's unnecessary
Know sh*t get scary like hereditary
We all goin' up, not comtemporary
I've been singin' this sh*t like Mariah Carey
Can't f*ck with my words, my vocabulary
Been undercover, like my name Perry
Pop him like fireworks, Katy Perry
I get in that car and my songs, they blarin'
I walk in that function and everyone starin', b*tch

[Chorus]
Makin' that boy run like this sh*t a lap
Know I'm 317, know I rep the 'Nap
No time for no beefin', n*gga, what's that?
I really got brothers who move that pack
I really know brothers that's in that trap
My songs don't miss, know that sh*t is a slap
Not shaking your hand, not givin' no dap