Sick Of Y’all lyrics

[Intro]
Lucci how you feel? Yeah
Lucci how you feel?
f*ck a n*gga talkin' 'bout, man
Big ice
Ooh
Iced up records

[Verse]
I'm sick of n*ggas keep talkin' bout they steppers, ain't hit sh*t
I'm sick of all these plain jane ass Rollies, ice my wrist (Plain)
I' m sick of n*ggas [?] 'bout me, [?] dropped yo' blick
This lil' thot b*tch keep tweakin' on my grind, get off my di*k
I'm sittin' here rappin' bout hittin' lean, n*ggas know I started this sh*t
Lame ass n*ggas riding in 'Vettes, like it ain't 'Raris around this b*tch
I'm sick as hell, that switch make that FN shoot like chops
Got eighty racks in my Amiris, hit yo' town, open up spots
I'm sick as hell, that Fetty make that dog strong as the rock
I'm sick as hell, you out here coppin' a plea to all yo opps
I'm sick you wearing them SIs when Hutch got VSs
Lil gang wit me, nickname rubbеr band, know he stretch sh*t
They sick as hеll I be wearin' all my jewelry when I'm in public
Wood with me, got forty on him, no reach, know we uppin'
I'm sick you out here cuffin' that lil' b*tch and know she f*ckin
I tote thirties and pop Perkys, real street n*gga on my cousin
I'm sick of n riding Maybachs with Ms on the hood
Big chopstick, two round clips like titties on the wood
Cash my rap check, bought all dope, now I'm really on the run
Just might f*ck around, sell two bricks, brought skizzy to the club
I'm sick, you out here acting friendly with n*ggas killed yo' homie
Bust my sky dweller and yacht master, I literally killed my Rollie
I'm sick, I brought two hunnid racks to club and let sh*t fly
I'm sick, you sellin' them fake percs, a real n*gga done died
I'm sick n*ggas done told, hit that stand and told them lies
Giving yo opinions all on the internet, ain't never did no time
I'm sick, n*ggas done crashed out doing anything for a b*tch
Got a new rose gold Richie on, like Henny stains on my wrist