Adin Ross lyrics

[Intro]
(Rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr)
Real Murda Worth sh*t, b*tch, ayy, huh
Huh, young n*gga gettin' money on camera, n*gga, feel like Adin Ross, uh (Like Adin Ross)
Every time my momma got paid she used to take us to Ross (Take us to Ross, n*gga)

[Pre-Chrous]
Ayy, I'm clean, n*gga, she wanna f*ck, let me beat (b*tch)
Clear out the scene n*gga, big ass truck, f*ck up the streets (Rrr-rrr)
Roll up the weed, n*gga, roll the window down, don't f*ck up the seats
Get me a Glock mag, f*ck a lil' ProMag, n*ggas gon' f*ck up the G23

[Verse 1]
30 gon' sneak up and Lil' Dee creep, MP5 be bangin' like MP3
I don't get enough props when I shoot the Glock, b*tch, I feel like CP3 (Bi–)
I don't get enough props when I took his thot, n*gga, I just saved his life
I don't gеt enough props, gettin' guap, laugh to the bank likе Chris Rock

[Chorus]
I don't get enough props, young n*gga, I know myself a boss (b*tch)
f*cked the bag up just to cut the cost, quit the lean like Adin Ross (b*tch)
She ride me like a Motocross, many n*ggas in your yard built like Rick Ross
Young n*ggas in the dark, they'll let it spark (Rrr-rrr-rrr-rrr)

[Refrain]
f*cked the bag up just to cut the cost, quit the lean like Adin Ross (n*gga)
Young n*gga, gettin' money on camera n*gga, I feel like Adin Ross (b*tch)
Every time my momma got paid, used to take a n*gga straight Ross (b*tch, n*gga)
Creep up through your bush, hide outside his house, everything he feel is hot
[Bridge]
n*gga, hot n*gga (Rrr-rrr-rrr, ayy, I love you, baby)
Whatcha on, whatcha on? (Was tryna say, ayy)
(Rrr-rrr-rrr) Whatcha on, whatcha on? (I love you, baby, hey, you know I'm gettin' money)
I'ma just stick with a Glock (Rrr-rrr-rrr)
A Glock, whatcha on, whatcha on? (And f*ck these n*ggas, I'm turnt up)
(Rrr-rrr-rrr) Whatcha on n*gga, whatcha on n*gga? (You know I go through the most but I'm pushin' through that sh*t)
Whatcha on n*gga, whatcha on? (Whatcha on n*gga?)

[Verse 2]
Young n*gga, gettin' money on camera n*gga, I feel like Adin Ross (b*tch, n*gga)
Young n*gga make 'em f*ck up his stamina, get to shootin' up the block (Block)
Bad b*tch, let me f*ck her on camera, I'll never cuff the thot (Thot, n*gga)
Young n*gga, pistol on the Greyhound, I never take the dot (n*gga, b*tch)

[Pre-Chorus]
Ayy, I'm clean, n*gga, she wanna f*ck, let me beat (b*tch)
Clear out the scene, n*gga, big ass truck, f*ck up the streets (Rrr-rrr)
Roll up the weed, n*gga, roll the window down, don't f*ck up the seats
Get me a Glock mag, f*ck a lil' ProMag, n*ggas gon' f*ck up the G23 (Bi–)

[Chorus]
I don't get enough props, young n*gga, I know myself a boss (b*tch)
f*cked the bag up just to cut the cost, quit the lean like Adin Ross (b*tch)
She ride me like a Motocross, many n*ggas in your yard built like Rick Ross
Young n*ggas in the dark, they'll let it spark (n*gga, n*gga)
[Outro]
(Rrr–ayy, rrr-rrr, I love you, baby)
Whatcha on, whatcha on? (Was tryna say, ayy)
(Rrr-rrr-rrr) Whatcha on, whatcha on? (I love you, baby, hey, you know I'm gettin' money)
(Rrr-rrr-rrr) Whatcha on, whatcha on? (And f*ck these n*ggas, I'm turnt up)
(Rrr-rrr-rrr) Whatcha on? b*tch, b*tch (You know I go through the most but I'm pushin' through that sh*t)