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Correct I Ain't Inna That Lyrics
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Artists: S
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S.A.S.
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Correct I Ain't Inna That
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Lyrics:
Mega: Yeah Knox on the beat It's a C. T. E./Dipset thing You. K. To A-Town, stand up Yeah, real talk Writer, I see you Verse 1 Mega: I'ma ball when it come to bitches, I pick and roll I'm in the Beamer with Christina, she dip it low Give a fuck what ya ass thought We the reason American bitches coppin' passports Oi Oi, London Boys, all the groupies sure That we have more cheese than a Gucci store And yeah I'm on the pass tip Beef, you wanna squash it My man dem catch bodies like a moshpit, what bitch You can see we grind Believe me I am fly like the back of the wings of that dp9 I'm in the air in that new Coupe And see-through roof F a infrared my scales got a bluetooth Lots of pain when I rock the chain It got me lookin' like the Hunchback of Notredame, damn Park up the Range, hop out wit' a scarf in the rain Hard in my game, it's hard to explain Hook S. A. S.: Fake shottas that act like they G's I ain't inna that Snitch, rats, imposters, and thieves I ain't inna that Trickin' them bitches, coppers and D's I ain't inna that We mash bees, the mobsters with me Let's get inna that Man takin' my city for joke I ain't inna that Actin' hassadiity but broke I ain't inna that You look silly, we pity you folks I ain't inna that We keep it gritty wit' millies we tote Let's get inna that Verse 2 Mayhem: Whoa, oh no, Nos Caliente Dressed to kill, I'm fresh for real In that new super car, rims stretched the wheel We them young superstars givin' vex the chills, I'll Extra trill, flip O's, move 'caine S** appeal, your chick knows who's name Let's be real, I get dough and you lames Couldn't strike the blow, I flip like my moods changed Whoa, and I'm gone again Clean up, re-up and it's on again The mayor's under, you ever seen May in summer You would say he a major stunna So what's going on mate, what the business is Ain't nuttin' wrong, state what ya business is This is real talk, we really living it Hit your premises, and leave wit no witnesses Hook Verse 3 Slick Pulla: Pulla man, I tote two smokin' bounties For the cash I might Snatch yo' ass like Brad Pitt Bake the layer cake, yea it's all in the mix Andre Agasee, it's all in the wrist Stand-up guys, don't fuck wit' you queers Wit' toast we deliver the block, we go chez Ask Rocky, he know 'bout them Georgia boys He knows how we roll, strapped up wit' a couple toys Yeah, and I style on haters When I yok on that block thing, they call it Snick Baters Cookies in a plastic bag, vanilla wafers It's a yes with the steel, we'll flambe ya Hook
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