UKA UKA - Trippie Redd

Ooh, said I made y’all

So how could I be mad that I ain’t y’all?

Same reason why I hate y’all

Hop up in this Rari then I race off, ayy

Do the dash in this racecar

Got the Pistol Pete on me, is this a face off?

Ayy

Better say your damn grace dog

Blind in reality just like you’re Ray Charles

Ayy, I don’t want no more pressure

No, I don’t want no more pressure

No, I don’t want no more pressure

Ahh, don’t want no more pressure

Ahh, don’t want no more pressure

Ahh, don’t want no more pressure, ahh

Ayy, fuck your bitch and hit my fucking dab

Ayy, choppers by my side, you know it clap

Like your bitch ass, big bag

Big cash, and I tote a big gat

Aftermath, I’m just dressed in all black

Got the black mask

I’ll pull it out the motherfucking black bag

Ooh, yeah, and drop your ass

Bang bang, lil nigga you left in the past

Ooh, ayy, son these niggas, I’m your dad

Big racks on my body, baby got this cash

Pray these goofy niggas really goin' out sad

Give these pussy niggas hell like I’m Johnny Gat, ooh

Swear I want no pressure

No, swear I want no pressure

No, swear I want no pressure

No, swear I want no pressure

No, swear I want no pressure

No, swear I want no pressure

No, swear I want no pressure

Ooh, ayy, ooh, are you niggas really from the field?

Or are you niggas really from the hills?

I got a mob of niggas coming by the mills

They’ll shoot your ass down boy from 1400 kills, for real

I’m tryna find your fuckin chill

I’m off this Actavis, I’m tryna pop a seal

I don’t do Xannies baby, no, don’t do no pills

I’m just smokin on dope, baby

Just thumbin' through the mills, so ill