lirik lagu no compadre – dababy
[verse]
boy i’m tryna tell you
f-ck it, go in off the muscle
n-gg-s never love you, don’t respect your
every time they see you, dap you up in public
second that you turn your back, they all like “f-ck you”
what the f-ck wrong with these n-gg-s?
i wouldn’t even get on a song with these n-gg-s
you might as well go put a thong on these n-gg-s
i smell the perfume or cologne on these n-gg-s
ah, time to turn up in the city
i pull up broad day with that choppa, let’s get it
these n-gg-s act like they can’t get they issue
bring swerve out the cut and i send him to get you
pull up like, “who wanna see me?”
try me if you don’t believe me
i got ’em like, “who baby jesus?
the one that cashed out on that new yellow beamer?”
no play-play, no play-play, i’m bustin’
i’m ’bout whatever, won’t back down from nothin’
perfected my craft, exercising my muscle
two guns in the club, k!ll the first n-gg- touch me
that’s why i be chilling and minding my business
i’m half-way r-t-rded, my mind is specific
welcome to charlotte, and this how we livin’
from east to the west, better be ’bout your business
in north to the south, f-ck around, get your issue
re-up in charlotte then come with your pistol
don’t leave it in the car, i bring it in here with me
please don’t get me started ’cause i don’t like quittin’
on i-85 blowing smoke out the window
vroom, i’m ricky bobby, i send hits like boozie
the first n-gg- try me, i pay for the bodies
just call me john gotti, yeah
it ain’t sh-t to send a hit
send a dm on the gram, hit your b-tch
got a mac-11, 32 in the clip
keep a .45 with 15 shots off the hip
glock in my tote, we strapped up in the v.i.p
f-ck the security, we in the club with them pistols
catch him slipping, go knock the mug off a n-gg-
ask what happened, “sorry, i do not remember”
know how we do in the fold
no pressure, i know what do with your hoe
bet i make her feel special, i know what to tell her
i sell her a dream, let her put on my necklace
then give her right back, know i had to finesse her
baby jesus got more b-tches than elvis
you know i got ‘eem, got me feeling like welvin
you already know that all dogs go to heaven
all my dogs is some felons
f-ck the law, ain’t no tellin’
i switched up the pace on the rental
pull up on whoever, just tell me who want it
i’m flat about all the subliminal messages
my confirmation and n-gg-s respect the sh-t
i go to work like a muhf-ckin’ mexican
i’m so unimpressed with these n-gg-s
i expected the best from these n-gg-s
i’m disappointed, that’s to say the least
somebody wake me up, i’m on the way to sleep
i find it funny how these n-gg-s changing on me like i didn’t do this thing by my lonely
like i ain’t put work in, no handouts, i earned it, please don’t say my name, lil’ n-gg-, you don’t know me
i make it look easy, but don’t get it twisted, you ain’t built for this sh-t, i promise
i love getting money, i love getting p-ssy, and both of ’em come with a whole lot of problems
i’m the future of rap in my city, not to mention i’m known to f-ck up some commas
what you kids know about taking n-gg-s money just to go and give it to your mama?
if i love you, i will never let you struggle, i’ll give you my last, know i got ya
and it’s baby jesus, you already know it, ayy
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