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lirik lagu novacane – red sun

[intro:]

yanno i just, i just got back home from a little get*a*away up in la
and now that i’m back here
i realize how f*cken fake ya’ll are

[verse 1:]

i, don’t give, a f*ck, ’bout the money in your photos, (woo)
snapchat memories with old hoes, (old b*tches)
g*ngb*ngin’
tell me why i always catch you solo, (you alone)
shawty ain’t from kankakee
i met her at the store, and took her right back to my block
and then you know how that sh*t go (aye wassup what you on..)
you n*ggas trippin’
i ain’t average i’m gifted like its christmas
imma’ f*ck up on a bad b*tch, and get her reminiscing, its a, (what)
dirty faygo with the liquor half the bottle make it bitter i ain’t sippin’ for the taste, i’m gettin’ by, (you mothaf*ckas’)
the day
paystubs tell me everything will be okay
if it’s a problem with you, then its a problem with the gang
i’m just looking for a reason not to leave and get me even, (makin’ money)
redsun be the season all this heat done got ’em bleedin’ (uyhh)
in a city full of snakes
im talking people full of greed
i’m livin’ for the dream
all the c.r.e.a.m. with the team, (cash rules)
i’m out there everyday you see the color of the sun, (red as f*ck)
blood up in the sky
everybody goin’ numb

[outro:]

huh
these fake ass mfs is everywhere, i swear
i can’t go here, i can’t go there
on momma, word

[chorus:]

(woo)
‘choppa finna’ turn him to a dancer
hands up
totin’ on a stick, he smokin’ cancer (smokin’ cancer)
imma’ turn his b*tch into a gangsta’ (down b*tch)
bands up
asking bout’ some money i’m the answer, (no question)
bad b*tch
fire in her p*ssy its a h*ll grip, (devil sh*t)
trap sh*t
servin’ up the city like its breakfast, (denny sh*t)
all times
shawty shakin’ ass through the face*time, (finna’ hit it)
cake time
runnin’ to the baker like a fat b*tch
(woo)

[verse 2:]

west coast, west coast
north side ridin’ it’s the f*cken’ best coast
stand tall, no shoes, flat feet, ten toes
bigger stepper, bigger pressure if you wanna’ check those, (swoosh)
imma’ hustle for a check, i’ll never hustle bouta’ b*tch (bout a hoe)
i ain’t trippin’ bout’ no trouble if it ain’t gon’ make me rich
i’m just sippin’ on this shiny sh*t
it take me to the moon
couple losses couple wins
but i still don’t ever lose
you see its true
i ain’t doin’ any quarters if it ain’t a quarter mile, (skrt)
leave him in my mirror see him sitting court*n’*trail
ain’t got a dial cuz’ i would break it
too much heat for it to take it
i ain’t saying sh*t for basic mothaf*ckas’ in denial (p*ssy n*gga)
ain’t seen me for a while, well i ain’t heard of you at all, (mothaf*cka’)
they sayin’ i’m the summer, and you stayin’ in the fall, (down bad)
all my dawgs on the call, sayin’ look up to the sun (red as f*ck)
blood up in the sky, everybody goin’ numb

{outro/excerpt:]

and ion care if his momma there, his grandmomma
innocent bystanders, lil kids, babysitters, bill collectors
whatever
ill leave his whole block filled with hot brass if i have to
and you know why?
cuz i, just, dont, give a f*ck!
(splat)

[chorus:]

- red sun

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