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Not For Me (prod.kysixn) Video (MV)




Performed By: g.clay
Language: English
Length: 1:54
Written by: W. Clayton
[Correct Info]



g.clay - Not For Me (prod.kysixn) Lyrics
Official




(My pockets ripping at the seams, boy those ain't real Amiri jeans)
They don't get it, but somehow it's my fault they don't understand
I drag myself straight through the sand
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
My daddy trippin' think the drugs are adding up, now I'm the man
(Now I'm the man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
Get around me, probably change your voice up
Talking to a fan
This shit was not part of the plan, you weren't there like Emily and Anna
I drop a 10 like it's a band
I'll do it again for the fam
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Whatchu sippin'
Why's it green?
Had no one for me knew the feins
Had no one for me knew the plug
Got you a strap now you's a thug
Like oh my God
Boy what the f*ck
I remember you from GRC
I'm probably who you wanna be
I'm probably who she wanna see
But that's for you, boy not for me
Boy those ain't real Amiri jeans
My wallet ripping at the seams
I see my angles in my dreams
I still can't get no f*ckin' sleep
Me and Draven f*cked up Lewis St
That boy ain't even turn 18
But he had loyalty so I make sure that boy could always eat
Boy ain't no hoe in me
Boy ain't no showing me
Shit I done seen it all
Ain't no "bro"ing me, shit you not close to me
Boy would you risk it all?
You wouldn't catch me doing that if I was you but I wasn't pissed at all
Whole gang you hang 'round with full of weirdos, I should list them all
(I should list them all)
I ain't felt myself my bad I missed ya call
You'd be like this too if you saw what I saw
They don't get it, but somehow it's my fault they don't understand
I drag myself straight through the sand
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
My daddy trippin' think the drugs are adding up, now I'm the man
(Now I'm the man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

(My pockets ripping at the seams, boy those ain't real Amiri jeans)
They don't get it, but somehow it's my fault they don't understand
I drag myself straight through the sand
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
My daddy trippin' think the drugs are adding up, now I'm the man
(Now I'm the man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
Get around me, probably change your voice up
Talking to a fan
This shit was not part of the plan, you weren't there like Emily and Anna
I drop a 10 like it's a band
I'll do it again for the fam
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Whatchu sippin'
Why's it green?
Had no one for me knew the feins
Had no one for me knew the plug
Got you a strap now you's a thug
Like oh my God
Boy what the f*ck
I remember you from GRC
I'm probably who you wanna be
I'm probably who she wanna see
But that's for you, boy not for me
Boy those ain't real Amiri jeans
My wallet ripping at the seams
I see my angles in my dreams
I still can't get no f*ckin' sleep
Me and Draven f*cked up Lewis St
That boy ain't even turn 18
But he had loyalty so I make sure that boy could always eat
Boy ain't no hoe in me
Boy ain't no showing me
Shit I done seen it all
Ain't no "bro"ing me, shit you not close to me
Boy would you risk it all?
You wouldn't catch me doing that if I was you but I wasn't pissed at all
Whole gang you hang 'round with full of weirdos, I should list them all
(I should list them all)
I ain't felt myself my bad I missed ya call
You'd be like this too if you saw what I saw
They don't get it, but somehow it's my fault they don't understand
I drag myself straight through the sand
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
Trippin'
My daddy trippin' think the drugs are adding up, now I'm the man
(Now I'm the man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
(Man)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: W. Clayton
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: g.clay

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