Yuh
Wait
Wait
Yuh
Wait
Huh
Hold on, shoot
Nigga they looking for you
Thought your shawty was a bad bitch
Passed her around like the flu
Leave you niggas in the past tense, whatchu niggas tryna do
I ain't got time for that, you lil niggas washed like laundry mat
I'm just tryna get my commas back
No pistols, this a calm attack
No crystals I ain't got time for that
Like 444 I'm born for this, you lil niggas stuck like ornaments
My flow like butter, shit's marvelous
I'm
I'm
Gone
Now you see me, now you don't
Read this beat a scripture man, I guess I'm like the pope
F*cking with yo shawty and she clutching on the pole
She pulled up to the crib, now that's some shit I can't disclose
You put her in a polo, I'm tryna put her in a Rover
Take her ass straight to the back, I show my Range then she explode
She tried to box me, I'm Jack with the hops
If money is time then I'm stepping on clocks
I'm really legit and you niggas is not
I step with a crew, ain't no need for a glock
Huh
Yeah yeah
Rinse his mouth I'm like the dentist
I'm on Namek, hit that power up, I'm going past the limit
How I'm son-ing all you niggas, all you niggas my descendants
Huh
Yeah yeah
Huh
Yeah yeah
Need some glasses for this Popeye, cause I'm tryna get this spinach
Do my money dance, I'm running back
I'm past the line of scrimmage
I ain't coming back lil shawty, I'm just tryna stack the digits
Put that face up on my tee and now we count up the percentage
Only the survive, Nigga a phony you know that you cant be the guys
I'm leaving you buried alive, three shots to the face now he beating the odds
I'm really a lyrical gawd, load up yeah my archetype one of a kind
Oh no yeah I'm really sublime, Frozone I could freeze up the time
Click clack, clap back
Thick bitch, no strap
Young nigga on a mission, I ain't gotta text back
Nigga talking bout division? I'm just tryna count the racks
Count up the racks, nigga we do it like that
Hold on, shoot
Nigga they looking for you
Thought your shawty was a bad bitch
Passed her around like the flu
Leave you niggas in the past tense, whatchu niggas tryna do
I ain't got time for that, you lil niggas washed like laundry mat
I'm just tryna get my commas back
No pistols, this a calm attack
No crystals I ain't got time for that
Like 444 I'm born for this, you lil niggas stuck like ornaments
My flow like butter, shit's marvelous
I'm
I'm
Gone
SSJNotNice - Hold On! Lyrics
SSJNotNice - Hold On! Lyrics
Official
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Yuh
Wait
Wait
Yuh
Wait
Huh
Hold on, shoot
Nigga they looking for you
Thought your shawty was a bad bitch
Passed her around like the flu
Leave you niggas in the past tense, whatchu niggas tryna do
I ain't got time for that, you lil niggas washed like laundry mat
I'm just tryna get my commas back
No pistols, this a calm attack
No crystals I ain't got time for that
Like 444 I'm born for this, you lil niggas stuck like ornaments
My flow like butter, shit's marvelous
I'm
I'm
Gone
Now you see me, now you don't
Read this beat a scripture man, I guess I'm like the pope
F*cking with yo shawty and she clutching on the pole
She pulled up to the crib, now that's some shit I can't disclose
You put her in a polo, I'm tryna put her in a Rover
Take her ass straight to the back, I show my Range then she explode
She tried to box me, I'm Jack with the hops
If money is time then I'm stepping on clocks
I'm really legit and you niggas is not
I step with a crew, ain't no need for a glock
Huh
Yeah yeah
Rinse his mouth I'm like the dentist
I'm on Namek, hit that power up, I'm going past the limit
How I'm son-ing all you niggas, all you niggas my descendants
Huh
Yeah yeah
Huh
Yeah yeah
Need some glasses for this Popeye, cause I'm tryna get this spinach
Do my money dance, I'm running back
I'm past the line of scrimmage
I ain't coming back lil shawty, I'm just tryna stack the digits
Put that face up on my tee and now we count up the percentage
Only the survive, Nigga a phony you know that you cant be the guys
I'm leaving you buried alive, three shots to the face now he beating the odds
I'm really a lyrical gawd, load up yeah my archetype one of a kind
Oh no yeah I'm really sublime, Frozone I could freeze up the time
Click clack, clap back
Thick bitch, no strap
Young nigga on a mission, I ain't gotta text back
Nigga talking bout division? I'm just tryna count the racks
Count up the racks, nigga we do it like that
Hold on, shoot
Nigga they looking for you
Thought your shawty was a bad bitch
Passed her around like the flu
Leave you niggas in the past tense, whatchu niggas tryna do
I ain't got time for that, you lil niggas washed like laundry mat
I'm just tryna get my commas back
No pistols, this a calm attack
No crystals I ain't got time for that
Like 444 I'm born for this, you lil niggas stuck like ornaments
My flow like butter, shit's marvelous
I'm
I'm
Gone
Wait
Wait
Yuh
Wait
Huh
Hold on, shoot
Nigga they looking for you
Thought your shawty was a bad bitch
Passed her around like the flu
Leave you niggas in the past tense, whatchu niggas tryna do
I ain't got time for that, you lil niggas washed like laundry mat
I'm just tryna get my commas back
No pistols, this a calm attack
No crystals I ain't got time for that
Like 444 I'm born for this, you lil niggas stuck like ornaments
My flow like butter, shit's marvelous
I'm
I'm
Gone
Now you see me, now you don't
Read this beat a scripture man, I guess I'm like the pope
F*cking with yo shawty and she clutching on the pole
She pulled up to the crib, now that's some shit I can't disclose
You put her in a polo, I'm tryna put her in a Rover
Take her ass straight to the back, I show my Range then she explode
She tried to box me, I'm Jack with the hops
If money is time then I'm stepping on clocks
I'm really legit and you niggas is not
I step with a crew, ain't no need for a glock
Huh
Yeah yeah
Rinse his mouth I'm like the dentist
I'm on Namek, hit that power up, I'm going past the limit
How I'm son-ing all you niggas, all you niggas my descendants
Huh
Yeah yeah
Huh
Yeah yeah
Need some glasses for this Popeye, cause I'm tryna get this spinach
Do my money dance, I'm running back
I'm past the line of scrimmage
I ain't coming back lil shawty, I'm just tryna stack the digits
Put that face up on my tee and now we count up the percentage
Only the survive, Nigga a phony you know that you cant be the guys
I'm leaving you buried alive, three shots to the face now he beating the odds
I'm really a lyrical gawd, load up yeah my archetype one of a kind
Oh no yeah I'm really sublime, Frozone I could freeze up the time
Click clack, clap back
Thick bitch, no strap
Young nigga on a mission, I ain't gotta text back
Nigga talking bout division? I'm just tryna count the racks
Count up the racks, nigga we do it like that
Hold on, shoot
Nigga they looking for you
Thought your shawty was a bad bitch
Passed her around like the flu
Leave you niggas in the past tense, whatchu niggas tryna do
I ain't got time for that, you lil niggas washed like laundry mat
I'm just tryna get my commas back
No pistols, this a calm attack
No crystals I ain't got time for that
Like 444 I'm born for this, you lil niggas stuck like ornaments
My flow like butter, shit's marvelous
I'm
I'm
Gone
Writer: Nkosinathi Maphosa
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid