Текст песни No Talkin - Pyrex Whippa

Sippin on Hi-Tech, eyes red looking like a frog
Geeked up foula simply raw
Pussy got scar miles liking her jaw
Kill about my bitch put it on god
Niggas ain't popping, shit they be froze
Givin' no option, killin' em all
We tote 'em rockets, choppas and bombs
22 bullets be chopping 'em arms
Won't fuck with no ratchet won't settle for cheap, yea, yea
My bitches got money they count it with me, yea, yea
I'm addicted to money I count in my sleep, yea, yea
You ain't talkin' 'bout money, I can't even shhhh

Fuck her good swap her out with her friend
Quarter mill crop the top of the benz
Clear my vision with Cartier lens
Diamonds biting my neck point a pen
VVS 1's in my braids you can kiss em
She keep looking she gon' be a victim
Put take me a brick, I'm a whippa
Rob a nigga grandma for prescriptions
Mama said I'm too good, I been triplin'
Like a child I was raised by the criplins
I'm too straight up to ever be swisha
I'm too laid back to ever be bitchin'
I'm still praying I find me a pigeon
Bet I flip it I never be trippin'
Free my niggas locked up in the system

Sippin on Hi-Tech, eyes red looking like a frog
Geeked up foula simply raw
Pussy got scar miles liking her jaw
Kill about my bitch put it on god
Niggas ain't popping, shit they be froze
Givin' no option, killin' em all
We tote 'em rockets, choppas and bombs
22 bullets be chopping 'em arms
Won't fuck with no ratchet won't settle for cheap, yea, yea
My bitches got money they count it with me, yea, yea
I'm addicted to money I count in my sleep, yea, yea
You ain't talkin' 'bout money, I can't even shhhh

Twenty pointer baguette on my neck
Blew a thirty I spent me a check
Shawty nasty I made me a mess
Bought her titties then nut on her chest
And he crippin' put that on the set
Call up Uzi he toss me a tek
Raining bullets I'm leaving em weak
Your bitch squirting she making a mess
Drowning up to my neck in baguettes
Pointers hittin' they fall like a test
Whippin' birds like I got me a mess
Can't be capping like Mitchell & Ness
F&N it's gone tank through a vest
Baby needed that shit do the rest
Free my mind that bitch have me in prison

Sippin on Hi-Tech, eyes red looking like a frog
Geeked up foula simply raw
Pussy got scar miles liking her jaw
Kill about my bitch put it on god
Niggas ain't popping, shit they be froze
Givin' no option, killin' em all
We tote 'em rockets, choppas and bombs
22 bullets be chopping 'em arms
Won't fuck with no ratchet won't settle for cheap, yea, yea
My bitches got money they count it with me, yea, yea
I'm addicted to money I count in my sleep, yea, yea
You ain't talkin' 'bout money, I can't even shhhh