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number nine tee - ​janu4ryss lyrics

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[intro]
(mixing up medicines in, n*gga)
(holiday season)

[verse]
number nine on my tee like i’m rondo
keep a drake with me when i’m in toronto
d*mn
that p*ssy boutta bust i need a poncho
three, four, five different b*tches in my condo
no money in discussion, end of convo
when i catch a hat hit an emote like ronaldo
you can’t hide from me, buddy think he waldo
green tip, 5 5 6 and they hollow

i remember days when i used to clock out
now i rock out
they love it when i pop out
cuz i need ten bands or i walk out
she wasn’t f*ckin’ with me now she wanna give me top now
of a xanny b*tch, i can’t even talk now
gotta couple haters that be prayin’ that i stop now
ray palm these are cartiers, not no ray*bans
yeah
i’m the motherf*cker that they really hate on
shout out to my fans, i’m the one that they wait on
got this nina on me now i feel like rajon
i had no respect, now they put my name on
we finna go catch his ass, flame him like a napalm
all these dirty ass hoes thinkin’ that they hot sh*t
but you not, you a lame, you a b*tch
dog tryna backdoor me, i turn into mike vick
sob rbe, lane change, lane switch
i got bad b*tches at the crib f*ckin’ me
where they at though, please don’t make me laugh bro
told her paint me a picture like she van gogh
f*ckin’ on a bad b*tch but she a fan hoe
never be too friendly that’s how you get backdoored
i got rambo, big guns in my lambo
b*tch i’m pinnin’ on the court, lookin’ like i’m scottie
i’m just smokin’ so much gas, smokin’ on biscotti
feel like ace hood, woke up in a new bugatti
2025, who the f*ck owns a mazzeratti?

[outro]
yeah you poor, yeah you poor
yeah b*tch, i don’t f*ck with no poor people

- janu4ryss lyrics

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