No Topic lyrics

[Intro]
Tay Keith, f*ck these n*ggas up (Ha)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, f*ck it, ha, ha

[Verse]
Made this song and it got no topic, f*ckin' your thottie
Just got off the phone with Yo Gotti, he like, "What's poppin'?"
I moved that pound like a man
Down on my knees, I stayed low for some bigger plans
You used to ball, call you Chris Grant
Full of gelato, b*tch you know the stench (Gas, gas, gas)
Smoke an O so that's full court
Add it up b*tch, that's a dollar worth
Your b*tch, she all on my collared shirt
b*tch I told you this ain't Holister
I make her walk like I'm out of there (Walkin')
Wrist gold, mouth gold, really everything gold on me
I unload my pistol, turn an opp to a dead homie
You gotta roll though, pull up in four door (Skrrt skrrt)
That n*gga a b*tch (Why?), he shoot with his eyes closed
I ain't no ordinary n*gga, b*tch I'm an ordinary killer
I got like seventeen choppers and at least forty-seven pistols
Drippin' sauce in this b*tch, now they like whoa
Rock Revival jeans, fresh from head to toe
Say I'm ugly, yeah I know so (I know so, I know so)
But I still can f*ck on your ho (That's my ho b*tch)
b*tch, go get you some new clothes (Some new clothes ho)
You had them black pants up in school ho (You did)
I had them di*kies in that motherf*cker (In that motherf*cker)
We smokin' sticky in this motherf*cker (Gas, gas)
Her name Vicky, have a quickie in this motherf*cker (I'm finna f*ck her)
She might give my di*k a hickie in this motherf*cker (Might give a sucker)
Hit the club, got my glizzy in this motherf*cker (Yah)
Two hitters outside in the car, call them the splash brothers (That's on my mama)
[Outro]
No topic
No topic, no topic, no topic
No topic, no topic
Three n*ggas outside, best believe that they Bloc
Yeah they Bloc
Hello?
Want that n*gga out of there man, I want that n*gga dead man. I don't want that n*gga livin' no more man, I'm just, I want him assassinated, on crip god, for real, you hear me?
Catch that n*gga outside loafin', loafin'
Chopper gon' bust his ass open, open
If you do that, them young n*ggas loc-in', loc-in'
We can't claim no hoes, f*ck a trophy, trophy
Ayy, I don't even know what to say, ayy
Damn I'm finna go to the bank, bank
Go get me some more cake, cake
And right in your b*tch face, face
Finna bring her, beat the face, ayy
Finna go and beat that case, yeah
Might of [?] earth with the ace, ayy
Ball like a Pacer, yeah yeah
Ball like a Pacer, ayy ayy
BlocBoy JB b*tch, ayy
Know how much money I'm making?
Money that I'm making
Yeah man, y'all know what's goin' on man