No Sense

(album: Rich Slave - 2020)

[Young Dolph:]
Yeah, yeah (Supah Mario)
(That boy Cassius) Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Hey (Hey, that boy Cassius)
That stiff dawg, shit, nigga, uh

Skinny-ass nigga in some big Balenciagas
My girl was mad at him so I took the bitch shopping
Dranking champagne, spend the racks all in Prada
Everybody know that he a big shit popper
Smoking ice cream, rolling on some peach cobbler
Hitters on the payroll and a couple doctors
Why the fuck you think I pour up all of this Wockhardt?
Hit the alarm on the 'Rari and it go (Brrt, brrt)
Park the 'Rari, jump in the Challenger (Skrrt, skrrt)
Feds watching me so I scramble 'em (Shake 'em up)
Had your bitch at the room, but I had to put out
She too freaky, nah, I couldn't handle her (Damn)
My young niggas walk around with chandeliers (Damn)
Yeah, chandelier the shit Khaled talking 'bout (Damn)
Dolph hit the club, then the bitches coming out (Damn)
I heard the opps in the club, nigga, point 'em out (Bitch)
Nigga, stop all that hiding and running 'round (Rrah)
I make your broke-ass brother gun you down (Rrah)
Damn, you too thick, girl, turn around (Rrah)
Lemme smack it one time and see how it sound
Millionaire but I make my boy lay you down
They don't give a fuck, they don't play around
Somebody text me, so I look down
My bitch waiting on me in a Gabbana gown (Gabbana gown)

[Key Glock:]
Yeah, bitch, I still wear Gucci
I'm chilling with a groupie, beating up her coochie (Beat it up)
Uh, Glizock, my life a movie (Glizock)
Guess who shoot it? Your bitch, I do's it (I do)
Uh, balling real hard, no recruiting, yuh (On God)
Paper Route winning, never losing, uh (Gang)
Before I drop the top, I been ruthless, yuh
Give it to 'em raw like sushi, uh (Raw)
Yuh (Yuh), yuh, still going dumb (Dumb), uh
Mr. Glock, the baguette don, yeah (Baguette)
Exotic smoke in my lungs, ooh (Yeah, yeah)
I really came out of them slums (Out 'em)
I'm finna buy me a house with a pond (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah, and I put this shit on my moms, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I think I was born with a gun (Yeah, yeah)
I'm a son of a gun, uh (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, you know where I'm from, yeah (Bitch, uh)
South Memphis, filled up with villains and gremlins
Lil' niggas with extensions on guns (Thirties), yeah
Don't play with the kid, you know how I get (You know it)
I get that shit done (Done), uh
Maybach on my wrist, this young nigga lit (Lit)
And a Porsche on my guns (Woo), duh (Duh)

[Young Dolph:]
Shit don't make no sense (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
This shit don't make no sense (No sense)
This shit don't make no sense (No sense)
Shit don't make no sense (Make no sense)
Shit don't make no sense (No sense)
Yuh