No Friends lyrics

[Intro]
(Marc Boomin, this you?)

[Chorus: YSR Gramz]
When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting, we ain't putting n*ggas on cam
I don't f*ck with these n*ggas, no, you not my mans
I got that V up on my back 'cause I ain't got no friends
When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting, we ain't putting n*ggas on cam
I don't f*ck with these n*ggas, no, you ain't my mans
I got that V up on my back 'cause I ain't got no friends

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
Yeah, 'cause I ain't got no friends
I'm riding with my n*ggas till the world ends
n*gga sneak dissing? Put that barrel to his f*cking head
I'm smoking weed, getting head, tryna go to bed
My n*gga tryna slide right now, my n*gga off the meds
I tried to tell my lil' n*gga chill, they sent him to the feds
My lil' cousin playing with the chop, he almost hurt himsеlf
If nobody got my back then I got myself
I was really brokе, now I'm [?]
I got the [?] on my back, tryna catch myself
Hold on, let me catch myself
Treat you one of you n*ggas like my kid and beat you with a belt
You out here tryna f*ck lil' b*tches, you gon' go to jail
I'm out of town, I sent it to myself, bro, catch the mail
We screaming [?] when we see 12
It don't take much, lil' n*gga, just be yourself
Me and my lil' brother [?]
n*gga, ain't nobody make me, I made myself
I heard some n*ggas on yo head, you better fake yo death
This 'Wood hitting hard as hell, I can't catch my breath
[Chorus: YSR Gramz]
When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting, we ain't putting n*ggas on cam
I don't f*ck with these n*ggas, no, you ain't my mans
I got that V up on my back 'cause I ain't got no friends
When that pack touch down, tax like Uncle Sam
When we shooting, we ain't putting n*ggas on cam
I don't f*ck with these n*ggas, no, you ain't my mans
I got that V up on my back 'cause I ain't got no friends

[Verse 2: BabyTron]
Zaza, take a puff, I'm on top now
La La, ball like 'Melo in his prime now
Nuggets snotty than a b*tch, boy, yelling slime now
Free my baby out that lil' b*tch, he knocking time down
Yo sh*t ticking like a time bomb
Jacuzzi vibes, b*tch, I'm sipping on fine wine now
Went and got an AR with the flash, you can't hide now
Thinking that we f*cking Taliban, how we ride 'round
We'll hit you with a K, yeah
Jayson Tatum, fade away, hit the J, yeah
They say I don't be in the city, b*tch, I stay here
Dog sh*t on me in the club, grab some rain gear
Huh, or you gon' get wet
That vest? Nah, that ain't it, you gon' get stretched
We gon' spin around, right, right, we don't hit left
Turtle Pie, this sh*t loud as hell, boy, yo sh*t deaf
Yeah, yeah
Run it up, b*tch, I had to use my legs, yeah
Drop that lil' b*tch then I'm gone, I get checks, yeah
YSR and the sh*ttyBoyz, we up next, yeah