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letra de new 30 - daemoney

[intro: babyface ray]
(lil ron on the track)
yeah

[verse 1: babyface ray]
give me a minute, bro, i’m comin’ to the city
yeah, i ain’t even f-ck your b-tch ’cause a n-gga picky
ayy, between me and you, all these n-ggas dilly
really, i’m just bouncin’ back from f-ckin’ up some chicken
blue 30, huh, this a new 30
how the f-ck you stay clean, but your juice dirty?
that n-gga soda bust a ‘dweller, that’s like two birdies
i ain’t even gon’ talk, let the coupe hurt ’em
at the rooftop, takin’ ’42 shots
louis bandana like i’m tupac
if you see me with a snake, then it’s guwop
caught a n-gga lackin’, told bro, “hand me the oohwop”
come down your block sideways, wake the hood up
feds on a n-gga path, threw the plug up
cut a b-tch off before i put the drugs up
i been ballin’ for a minute, ain’t get subbed once
coast-to-coast, i hope you know your b-tch, she do the most
she be blowin’ up my phone when a n-gga gone
and i don’t even answer, i just spin her
told her pull up to the booth the only way that i’ma hit her
what the fiends pay made a n-gga reconsider
forever trappin’, mama told me never be a quitter
i just pulled a free eight racks out the blender
and that was homebase, i ain’t even have to send ’em
i just hit revive, drink ace with my n-ggas
gucci for my kids, give perkies to the b-tches
he ask me what i do, i say i play for the pistons
shootin’ long jumpers, b-tch, i never miss it
i had good parents, but a n-gga never listened
if you give that p-ssy up to me, we can kick it
if you give that p-ssy up on me, i ain’t trippin’
b-tch, it’s the game, how i know? ’cause i’m in it
b-tch, it’s the gang, wavy gang, them my n-ggas
hit the club, rainin’ like flag, can’t forget you
still run in somerset, cashin’ out, huh
‘fore you ask the price on it, n-gga, try it out
i got your b-tch with me and she hidin’ out
huh, ask yourself is a ho somethin’ to die about?
n-ggas really finished, let me find out, huh
hope you have them racks on you when you sign out
you know the feeling when you runnin’ out of rubber bands?
all that d-ck sucking, you can’t hit the blunt again
you wanna make some money? grab these beans and tuck ’em in
three dollar beans, popped her cherry, should’ve brung a friend
big bag, lil’ boy, n-ggas big mad
how you gettin’ off on me with sh-t i been had?
[verse 2: daemoney]
this an ap, yeah, i know these n-ggas hate me
makin’ moves with a bad b-tch like i’m jay-z
if a n-gga gotta shoot the pill, what’s a chasie?
i’ll really do a b-tch wrong, i ain’t tay b
young tommy hearns, i be punchin’ sh-t
lil’ sis said ups just brought a bunch of sh-t
they know my n-ggas really bloodhounds for that tuckin’ sh-t
in high school, i was john tuck, a n-gga took your b-tch
watch cost a scat pack, but it’s plain, though
i got all these chains on me like i’m django
baby girl, this a masi’ truck, no durango
talked to my brother in his casket, sh-t was painful
yo pickin’ up pages in the morning like a carpool
new givenchy out of saks when i get out of school
remember me from back in the day? boy, i been a fool
sittin’ on snow to play with money in the living room
n-gga, f-ck somerset, i’m finna order that
i turned your baby out, come and get your daughter back
pull up to the pharm’ and my racks like, “where my money at?”
my p was just tapped in, i got a quarter back
hit a n-gga with a chopstick like i’m jet li
ice on, all white buffies on the jet-ski
takin’ out the trash, ‘bows wrapped in a hefty
i don’t even wanna f-ck your b-tch, boy, she pesky

- daemoney

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