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lirik lagu you trippin – detroit l-o

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[intro]

young n*gga, young n*gga, young n*gga
mmm, let me tell you something young dawg
your priorities have to straight for you to survive in this world
don’t be focused on the petty sh*t, focus on the real sh*t
focus on the big sh*t

[hook]

you ain’t thinking bout millions then you trippin
you ain’t thinking bout yachts then you trippin
you ain’t tryna stack knots then you trippin
you ain’t tryna progress then you trippin
you just want the designer man you trippin
you ain’t keeping it real then you trippin
putting hoes over business man you trippin
rather sit and do nothing man you trippin

[verse 1]

on my edge of the bed bouta turn on the flat
i reach my hands to the ceiling just to stretch out my back
being broke use to worry me, had me going insane
looking at my dresser, visualizing stacks and a chain
i remember when a n*gga use to stand in the rain
waiting on the public transportation, sh*t was so lame
i done been through so much pressure, but i’m never gon fold
starving until payday, man that sh*t getting old
i want rollies i want yachts, imma get it til it’s got
and keep stacking and investing til i’m chilling at the top
i be super laid back and i do not even smoke
if you give up, you a quitter and a b*tch and you a joke
f*ck checking the balance man i wanna walk into my bank account
i want a b*tch jaw to drop when i tell her the amount
i live to inspire, so why not set an example
they don’t let the real on tv, so i must change the channel

[hook]

you ain’t thinking bout millions then you trippin
you ain’t thinking bout yachts then you trippin
you ain’t tryna stack knots then you trippin
you ain’t tryna progress then you trippin
you just want the designer man you trippin
you ain’t keeping it real then you trippin
putting hoes over business man you trippin
rather sit and do nothing man you trippin

[verse 2]

sitting in the bucket seats with a mona lisa piece
all my business stay discreet, they don’t know a thang bout me
coach insignia, with a chick watch her calories
looking at my bezzle while she scoop the ranch with celery
n*ggas talking cash sh*t, saying get yo bands up
sleeping on a air mattress, shut yo r*t*rded ass up
i don’t watch no tv unless it’s martin or good times
you talk that street sh*t but you don’t profit off yo crime
all these n*ggas dumb with a capital d
if you ain’t looking for no money, why yo ass in the streets
so you a broke ass gangster man you just thuggin’ for free
that’s getting old to yo b*tch, that’s why she f*cking with me
see i’m a fenkell ave. representor, surf and turf for dinner
gold bottle winner, make yo b*tch suck me til i’m tender
work her out and make you wonder why she slimmer
but remember that i cut her, you just trimmed her
when you cuffed her in november, i was f*cking by december
but you told her in october, don’t be f*cking with this n*gga
but you’ll never catch me with her
when she wanna let me pop, she make yo ass the babysitter
get her, cuz yo ass gon blow up like a atom when i split her
then forget her
watch me disappear and make a couple racks
riding through the city with a couple bands on my lap
n*gga imma keep it moving cuz the grind don’t stop
while you tryna drop yo b*tch, i’m dropping the top
[hook]

you ain’t thinking bout millions then you trippin
you ain’t thinking bout yachts then you trippin
you ain’t tryna stack knots then you trippin
you ain’t tryna progress then you trippin
you just want the designer man you trippin
you ain’t keeping it real then you trippin
putting hoes over business man you trippin
rather sit and do nothing man you trippin

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