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Nofakin Video (MV)




Performed By: Duecey
Language: English
Length: 2:06
Written by: Samuel Embry-Cook




Duecey - Nofakin Lyrics




This a bop finna get my Glock hit the spot
Then I hit up Wop they opps been dissing but it's finna stop we spin a block then we sent some shots

Now he running finna get up on em
Choppa blowing clipped filled with a hunnit
Where you going thought you was dipping on us
Bend the corner put this bitch up on em

Sick af think I got nphemonia
Scared to touch like I got corona
Quarantine can't come out till morning
Mask up catch em while he yawning
Philip plien offwhite jeans
Her head spinning she off my lean
He ain't shoot he threw get off my team
She like Duecey can I get off my knees

Bitch we Locked in my Dread heads some real Rasta's
Pop em like a perc 10 we some pill poppers
I got 1000 ones only throwing real dollars
This thot squirt on my Gucci tee it's finna be a real problem

Bow down it's some real niggas in this section
Glocks ar f and n dracs a couple smith and Wesson
They say we doing to much they just sick that we be flexing
Busted in her mouth so we don't need no contriceptic

123 who gone rump with me
45 sticks get you slumped with ease
6 feet deep how far he under neath
Blowing woods got me high up as da trees

Apply pressure who can do it better
Bitch I'm big without the coogie sweater
Turnt it up we on a newer level
Wrist numb cause I just blew the bezel

This a bop finna get my Glock hit the spot
Then I hit up Wop where the opps dis shit finna stop we spent da block cause we just sent some shots

Now he running finna get up on em
Choppa blowing clipped filled with a hunnit
I say Where you going thought you was dipping on us
Bent the corner put this bitch up on em
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




This a bop finna get my Glock hit the spot
Then I hit up Wop they opps been dissing but it's finna stop we spin a block then we sent some shots

Now he running finna get up on em
Choppa blowing clipped filled with a hunnit
Where you going thought you was dipping on us
Bend the corner put this bitch up on em

Sick af think I got nphemonia
Scared to touch like I got corona
Quarantine can't come out till morning
Mask up catch em while he yawning
Philip plien offwhite jeans
Her head spinning she off my lean
He ain't shoot he threw get off my team
She like Duecey can I get off my knees

Bitch we Locked in my Dread heads some real Rasta's
Pop em like a perc 10 we some pill poppers
I got 1000 ones only throwing real dollars
This thot squirt on my Gucci tee it's finna be a real problem

Bow down it's some real niggas in this section
Glocks ar f and n dracs a couple smith and Wesson
They say we doing to much they just sick that we be flexing
Busted in her mouth so we don't need no contriceptic

123 who gone rump with me
45 sticks get you slumped with ease
6 feet deep how far he under neath
Blowing woods got me high up as da trees

Apply pressure who can do it better
Bitch I'm big without the coogie sweater
Turnt it up we on a newer level
Wrist numb cause I just blew the bezel

This a bop finna get my Glock hit the spot
Then I hit up Wop where the opps dis shit finna stop we spent da block cause we just sent some shots

Now he running finna get up on em
Choppa blowing clipped filled with a hunnit
I say Where you going thought you was dipping on us
Bent the corner put this bitch up on em
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Samuel Embry-Cook
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Duecey

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