Aint No Fun lyrics

[Verse 1]
Yeah, b*tch I'm in that Benz truck
Bad b*tch, that'd be rude if you ain't let my friends f*ck
Shmoney dancin' on you b*tches, told her, "We can dance, bruh"
Fifty on my— uh (I got Brizzy on the beat, he go crazy), ooh, yeah, ayy
Fifty in my pocket, teacher told me pull my pants up
Shorty on my line, she on that bullsh*t, I can't answer
She talkin' 'bout she pregnant, man, she tryna get me jammed up
If she not tellin' lies, you already knowin' what's the plan, bruh
That B sh*t, yellow diamonds on me, on some pee sh*t
I'm just tryna kick it with you baby, you and me sh*t
Blow a bag at Neiman's on a weekend, b*tch, I'm geekin'
I'ma freak it, take it back up to thе telly, Michael Jackson, I'ma
Beat it, post it up and thеn delete it
Choppa do a n*gga dirty, got him shakin', got him leakin'
Yeah, she mad as hell, sendin' paragraphs, I didn't read it
So I blocked her up on everything, I couldn't be defeated
Pull up in that AMG— yo, why the f*ck do I keep whisperin'?
Black seats in a black car, hell yeah, that's what I'm whippin' in
I see the goddamn stars, there's no roof or ceilin' in
They be like, "Goddamn Chris, how the f*ck do you be killin' it?"
And I'm richer than a b*tch while yo' ass workin'
And that choppa turned him to a stripper, got his ass twerkin'
b*tch, I'm not the same n*gga, that's a past person
Damn, I done broke up with my b*tch on her birthday, I'm a bad person
[Chorus]
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none

[Verse 2]
Try to test me or my n*ggas, we gon' have to grab guns
Damn, rockin' H.Lorenzo, b*tch, you rockin' PacSun
Ooh, Kylie Jenner lookin' b*tch, she got her ass done
If she can't hit my phone— mm, f*ck it man, this rap done
Sike, that's not it
You know me and all my n*ggas, we be on that bullsh*t
Got her n*gga comin' home, she put me in the closet
b*tch, I'm really goin' up, I'm feelin' like a rocket, makin' up a profit
Who is really killin' sh*t that's as old as me?
Lil' b*tch, I'm way too lit, I'm in that drive through and they notice me
Performin' on the stage and all the b*tches throw they bras and all they clothes at me
They ask me how I do it, I just do what I'm supposed to be
Got a .40 and a MAC and a chop' in a black truck
I'm throwin' fifty bands while I'm in school, I f*ck my class up
Around this time this year, man I was broke, I got my racks up
Runnin' laps around the bank, I might just f*ck the track up
Hit 'em with a "Uh, damn, I just f*cked the track up"
"f*ck it bruh, you ran that sh*t, it wasn't even that bad, bruh"
Ending of the song, goddamn it, dawg, I'm kinda mad, bruh
Right before I leave, I gotta tell y'all, get that bag, bruh
[Chorus]
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none
Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none