Lil Baby – No Friends (feat. Rylo Rodriguez) Lyrics

Lil Baby – No Friends (feat. Rylo Rodriguez) Lyrics
No Friends
Lil Baby (feat. Rylo Rodriguez)
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    No Friends Album Art
    "No Friends." - Lil Baby (feat. Rylo Rodriguez)

    Album: Street Gossip
    Track No: 09

    Cook that shit up, Quay
    I come from a different type of cloth
    Than these ****
    I'm gonna buy a different type of car
    Than these ****
    Ain't gon' fuck on none of these lil' bitches, baby
    I gotta switch it up man, I gotta move different
    I'm a boss ****, yeah
    Show them youngins how to level up
    Four Season hotel, sixty levels up
    But I'm a resident
    If you gon' do the crime, go hard
    Don't leave no evidence
    I got 'em all on my wave
    'Cause it's evident
    But where was y'all when I was lost
    Ain't know where to go?
    She think I'm fly, she like my pimpin'
    But I can't save no ho
    You only get one chance to cross me
    Then it's, "Say no more"
    I gotta tell 'em go
    I ain't hit you baby mama
    Hit her with the curve ball
    I ain't hit you baby mama
    Hit her with the curve ball
    And I'm still the same young hitter
    Used to serve y'all
    Don't ever get it twisted
    My youngins really flip shit
    My youngins really flip shit
    Don't ever get it twisted
    'Cause I really flip shit
    I don't need no friends
    I just wanna win
    I got this new Benz
    And it's all I need
    She listen to her friends
    They wanna get in
    She don't understand that they'll slob on me
    If I let 'em, ain't gon' let up
    I'ma keep on scribin'
    Heard they lookin' for me
    I can't tell 'cause I ain't hidin'
    It don't matter if I'm frownin'
    'Cause my mama smilin'
    I done finally went legit
    Ain't no more public housin'
    I gotta stay from 'round them
    I gon' pull up AMG like I don't know my alphabet
    Youngins ain't on Instagram
    But they still want a 'blue check'
    If 12 go grab one more of my dogs
    I'ma sue the vet
    I thought they all wanna see me ball
    They'd rather go hide the nets
    All these pointers in my watch
    But my Rolex ain't tellin'
    Know the drank the devil
    But when I'm on it, feel like I'm in heaven
    In the hood shootin' dice
    Ask what it playin', we told 'em, "7"
    Used to go to church
    Till I seen MC serve the reverend
    Pockets gettin' biggie, no Smalls, Faith Evans
    Don't know why she don't wanna fuck
    When I ain't wearin' my necklace
    They ain't picture me like this
    So, I sent all of 'em selfies
    Pray you don't get caught in the mix
    'Cause when we slide, it's deadly
    I'ma pay her for that pussy
    I won't lie, they petty
    $900 on jeans, we came from wearin' Moschino
    When that paper comin' in
    It'll drive you senile
    It'll drive you crazy
    Pray you take these lying hoes back
    Or they all faded
    I don't need no friends
    I just wanna win
    I got this new Benz
    And it's all I need
    She listen to her friends
    They wanna get in
    She don't understand that they'll slob on me
    If I let 'em, ain't gon' let up
    I'ma keep on scribin'
    Heard they lookin' for me
    I can't tell 'cause I ain't hidin'
    It don't matter if I'm frownin'
    'Cause my mama smilin'
    I done finally went legit
    Ain't no more public housin'
    I gotta stay from 'round it

    Writer(s): Dominique' Jones, Chris Rosser & Ryan Adams.

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