Mob Ties

Album: Scorpion (2018)
Charted: 13
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  • Ayy, sick of these niggas (sick)
    Sick of these niggas (sick, sick)
    Hire some help (help), get rid of these niggas (skrr)
    Sick of this shit, move to the Ritz
    Turned out the bitch (ayy)
    It is what it is, yeah
    GLE, 'cause that Lambo' movin' fast
    S Class, G Class, lotta class
    In a rocket and that bitch ain't got no tags
    Louis bags in exchange for body bags, yeah

    I'm sick of these niggas (sick)
    Sick of these niggas (sick, sick)
    Hire some help (help), get rid of these niggas (grr)
    Fuck what it was, it is what it is (what)
    Whatever you did, it is what it is

    And I'm so tired (tired)
    I fuck with the mob and I got ties (lotta ties, lotta ties)
    Knock you off to pay their tithes (oh)
    They want me gone but don't know why
    It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
    I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
    It's too late for all that
    It's too late for all that, ayy
    It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
    I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
    It's too late for all that, ayy
    It's too late for all that

    Ayy, sick of these niggas
    I'm sick of these niggas
    Hire some help, get rid of these niggas
    I'm not with the ra-ra
    I am a Dada
    My bitch in Chanel now
    Your bitch in Escada (sick, sick, sick)

    Yeah, and they shook
    Please don't let them fool ya, I don't care how they look (nah)
    Heard all of the talkin', now it's quiet, now it's shush (shh)
    Twenty-nine is comin', they on edge when I cook (cook)
    Lead the league in scorin', man, but look at my assists (shh)
    Yes I be with Future but I like to reminisce (yeah)
    I do not forget a thing, I'm patient, it's a gift (yeah)
    Try to tell 'em they ain't got to do it, they insist (they insist)
    Yeah, I can tell
    I just gave 'em two for forty million like Chappelle (two)
    Standin' over coffin with a hammer and a nail (two)
    Heard you hit up so and so, that name don't ring a bell (nah)

    Sick of these niggas (sick)
    Hire some help, get rid of these niggas
    I'm sick of this shit (sick, sick)
    I'm runnin' a blitz
    Whatever you did, it is what it is

    And I'm so tired (tired)
    I fuck with the mob and I got ties (lotta ties, lotta ties)
    Knock you off to pay their tithes
    They want me gone but don't know why
    It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
    I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
    It's too late for all that
    It's too late for all that, ayy
    It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
    I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
    It's too late for all that, ayy
    It's too late for all that Writer/s: Allen Ritter, Anthony Cruz, Aubrey Graham, Cory McKay, Dave Atkinson, Inga Marchand, Jean-Claude Olivier, Matthew Samuels, Nasir Jones, Samuel Barnes, Tavor Hollins Jr.
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, Cloud9, Downtown Music Publishing, JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, THE MEZZO AGENCY, LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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