Ain’t Gotta Lie lyrics

[Intro]
(It's a Wayne beat)
(His name's Pablo)

[Verse 1: Tee Grizzley]
Ain't gotta lie to these b*tches, they already wanna f*ck
Ain't gotta lie to these n*ggas, they b*tches lie to them enough
Better not play if you thirsty, b*tches be linin' n*ggas up
Glock'll give you lip injections, this a Kylie Jenner gun, wait
Should I do the rose Patek skelly or the Rollie?
This the type of sh*t I used to dream about in Cody
I'm the type of n*gga duck the feds if they on me
You thе type of n*gga duck a n*gga if you owe him
Two M's in jewеlry every time I link with Skilla
Get a n*gga fried, I'm the stove, Doc the skillet
We be overbuyin', we got more guns than killers
Should I buy two hundred choppers or a Richard Millie?
Don't bet with them n*ggas if they against us, they gon' fail you
Ask them n*ggas what's the score, I bet they ain't gon' tell you
Gray and blue Track' look like an Oakland county jail suit
Better not raise your voice at Mari Red, that boy'll nail you

[Verse 2: Skilla Baby]
Ain't gotta lie to a n*gga, if I'ma kill him, I'ma kill him
In the rental on the road with more dog than a kennel
R.I.P. my pops, he would've put your pops in the 'spital
n*ggas rats, when they get jammed, they talk, Stuart Little
Catch a snitch walkin' out of court and shoot off the dribble
n*ggas only shooters when they on the 'net, Kerry Kittle
Heard his life leave, I knew he was dead when I hit him
Told the dope fiends sign to Roc Nation, I'm Jigga
Should I play the 580, Urus, or the Track'?
If you wanna sign to me or Tee, catch a hat
Spinnin' in the Track', no cap, killers in the back
These ain't regular handguns, I put switches on the back
Wilt Chamberlain in the whip, left a hundred on that one block
The handgun Glock, when I slid, I had to come chop
Bro locked up, he couldn't come shank, had to come lock
You know me, I make opps duck, I don't duck opps