Not A Word lyrics

[Verse 1: Dominic Fike]
Smokin' that gateway drug
AKA Grade A bud in the bag
You tryna match?
Well, that's twenty five for the one and a half
Skimped 'em point five, I don't give a f*ck though, the joint rhyme
You want a discount? Well does this count?
Loincloth, di*k out
There I go, laughin' again
My bad, I took a six-pack to my abdomen, b*tch
Adam and who? Which ho was I after again?
Doesn't matter 'cause I think I'm lookin' at her (There she go)
I told her deepthroat my ego and I'll bust on your persona
But I won't eat your demeanor
Massage your feet or sleep over
'Cause I got trust issues?
Nah, I'm just a f*ckin' as*h*le
With a twisted mind and a black soul for the demons
Rolled with the heaters for a minute, now I'm back
And I'm sinnin' for a plaque or some sh*t
My n*gga, young n*gga from the '95, live from hell
I'm five foot twelve, underground but alive and well
I am crack rock, break me down
My lines gon' sell like fish scale
Real sh*t, I spit time in jail
Chico rolled the tree up as soon as he re-up and we up
Burn off an O and we crossin' over, see us in Kias
Ash it 'fore you pass it to me
I'm in Jackson's whip in the passenger seat
If my mama knew, then she would actually massacre me
I got class in twenty, hol' up, pack this for me
This practice, dummy, this beat is a practice dummy
Wait a minute, I made a killing
That means I'm made a villain, I'm a villain
Please explain this feeling in the ceiling while you at it
These hoes is addicts, they lookin' like who yé is that?
Told 'em "drop the Wayne Brady act and take it to the brain and back, b*tch"
Ain't my n*ggas, told your n*ggas who the main attraction
What was their reaction?
Not a word, yeah
[Segue: Dominic Fike & SLYTE]
My n*gga, not a word (Mic check!)
Not a mothaf*ckin' word
Slide up in this mothaf*cka
Yeah, check it, yeah

[Verse 2: SLYTE]
Uh, SLYTEWORK back in the cut again
I'm with the brethren from different mother them, yeah
Cooler than your AC, slick
But quick to plug the oven in
Simmer down for a while then I catch another wind
Oh, you don't like attention? I slap your butt again
Go call your daddy and papi, I'll slap him out his cardigan
Leave him trippin' and trippin, oh what, you took the fall again?
Oh my, what a sight, I bet she’d call again (Ring, ring)
But I'm tired of your missus, she miss when I do the dishes
But never will I swallow the squaller she's still dishin'
I dip then, call my n*ggas up like “ayy, what up kin?”
I'm just scoping out for babies pokin' like a pushpin (Yeah)
I'm like, well, sh*t, what up then?
I got that thing of good gin
Get 'em both together, get the pedaling the good sin
b*tch, you 'bout whatever, after medals when
Goin' for the gold, I know she know she see me lookin'
Yeah, I know she know she see me lookin'
But never will I ever take the bait
I know she jookin', b*tch
Biatch!
[Outro: SLYTE]
Yeah, L$G, SLYTE
Act like you know what the f*ck it is, bruh