No Reason - Lil Gnar, Lil Keed, Yak Gotti

I’m goin' up, up, I’m so high right now

That moon rock is on me, not tryna come down

I know I’m 'posed to be signed right about now

Thanks for the lookin' out

(Run-Run-Run that shit the fuck back!)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Cook up, Mook

Yeah, slime

Turn up, slime ball

Suck on that dick, baby, eat it (Eat it)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Thirt-Thirty on forty, that glizzy

Puff-Puffin' that gas like a chimney

I’m comin' straight off of Cleveland (I mean Bleveland)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

Suck on that dick, baby, eat it (Eat it)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Thirt-Thirty on forty, that glizzy

Puff-Puffin' that gas like a chimney

I’m comin' straight off of Cleveland (I mean Bleveland)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

I don’t tote that strap for no reason

My shoes came straight out of Neimans

My diamonds, they hittin' and blingin'

My old, she still tryna please me (Brr-brr)

She call, I let that shit ring (Hang up)

Switchin' them lanes in a Demon

I’m havin'

all season

I’m goin' up, up, I’m so high right now

That moon rock is on me, not tryna come down

I know I’m 'posed to be signed right about now

Thanks for the lookin' out (Thank you, thank you)

Stayed down, nigga, ten toes

Get the drop like a demo

Draco make 'em limbo

Beat the pot like I’m Kimbo

So rest in peace to Kimbo

With OG’s

Slime in the cut with a .44

He’ll switch, hit your whole photo, but baby

Suck on that dick, baby, eat it (Eat it)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Thirt-Thirty on forty, that glizzy

Puff-Puffin' that gas like a chimney

I’m comin' straight off of Cleveland (I mean Bleveland)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

Suck on that dick, baby, eat it (Eat it)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Thirt-Thirty on forty, that glizzy

Puff-Puffin' that gas like a chimney

I’m comin' straight off of Cleveland (I mean Bleveland)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

You thought you was squid? Get hit with the SIG

You know it’s slime biz, you know what it is

Get hit with the dick, Montana won’t miss

Damn, I came a long way

They tried to clone me, she tryna foreplay

Me and my homies

Know we gon' burn up, you know we gon' turn up

Get hit with that burner

And I’m screaming

hangin' with

Drac’s pull off, we run to McDonald’s

We stuffin' them grams in a Backwood

I double back, she was that good

And the Ac' make me feel good

Call-Call-Call it the way that I see it

She wanna give me a kiss

I told her to swallow my kids

I hope she forgive what we did

Baby, I am not ordinary

Lie, don’t care who tell it

She give me her heart like it’s February

Suck on that dick, baby, eat it (Eat it)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Thirt-Thirty on forty, that glizzy

Puff-Puffin' that gas like a chimney

I’m comin' straight off of Cleveland (I mean Bleveland)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

Suck on that dick, baby, eat it (Eat it)

I don’t tote this strap for no reason

Thirt-Thirty on forty, that glizzy

Puff-Puffin' that gas like a chimney

I’m comin' straight off of Cleveland (I mean Bleveland)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)

And I got racks in my skinnies (My skinnies)