No Feelings lyrics

[Intro: Quily]

Oh, ya'll n*ggas' still in ya'll feelins huh?
I told ya'll, that's the worse place to be in
Quilly 2

[Verse 1: Quilly]
Uh, What kind of Pills you sellin'? Them ain't percs
What kind of white you whippin? That ain't work
Give me salaams in jail, come home, go to church
Ahead of the game, I came in feet first
Your phone don't pop on the first
You can't hit the club, cuz your hurt
Your daughter can't read but she curse
These whores gettin' trained from birth
You can't talk money to me b*tch, you gotta cheap purse
Quarter brick for the feature, I can't sell a cheap verse
Whatever's left over, I'ma eat first
And then get seconds, after that, dessert
I gotta feed me and mine, f*ck you and yours
Put that work in since a youngin', I was doin chores
Been gettin' goofy on the mic, they know who the boy
Who your b*tch rooting for, real n*ggas' shooting for
You n*ggas' high off dope, you n*ggas' fly and broke
Still on the same corner, ain't rich of coke
Goin' to war over the same b*tch that gave me throat
A bunch of bums in red bottoms, kill over a whore
Won't kill the n*gga that shot him
You ain't even gotta tell me get em cuz I got em
Close range, IPhone 6, air drop em
Seen rappers turn trappers cuz their CD flop
I seen trappers turned rappers cuz their phone don't pop
Grind harder next year if I'm not on top
A n*gga listening right now like "He not that hot"
Either way, I'm not gon' chill, not gon' stop
Until I cop that crib, cop that drop
Matter fact, cop those cribs and buy that lot
I tripled up out of town and your block still hot
White cook like minute rice, instant grams
This the sh*t you won't see on my Instagram
This the sh*t I won't tweet about, G's don't speak about
Point blank range, have your whole brain leaking out
I'm just bobbin' and weavin' out
Goin' against odds, praying that it evens out
Went from eatin' in a cell to every night eating out
She can top me off but I won't eat her out
Margiela just to rap in, Fendi just to trap in
Moncler just to whip crack in
Never mind these Tyler Perry n*ggas', just acting
Catch him pullin' out his drive way, make him back in
I seen it all through Binoculars
Serving white people in the county, talkin' proper
Last week, was my first time eatin' lobster
Cousin got shot, never went to see the doctors
n*gga I'm C4, you're CB4
I was really at the F n*gga, D24
Either you real or a Rat n*gga either or
She said she never met a n*gga like me before
Breathe easy whore, I'm wavy
Member you used to call me peasy whore
Chanel Peacoat, Canadian ski coat
Good work from the Cartel in a speed boat
b*tches give me deep throat, cuz I'm seeing C-Notes
Thank the man above, on my knees; Tim Tebow
Bill Cosby sweater, no Theo
When you give em Michael Jackson bars
Who really cares about Tito?
Wavy, calm sh*t n*gga, plain as that
You don't if this jacket, Balmain or GAP
I put n*ggas' on their feet, took n*ggas' off the street
You f*ckin' your REUP up, takin' b*tches out to eat
You n*ggas' eatin at Felipe's wit a chicken wing budget
E & Red's throw me bread, I gotta "do your thing" budget
Shooter got a "let it ring" budget, and Shaaka paid off
If you go to jail, f*ck it
I got 62, money off of script, wit a flip
Money counter (?), she gon' hop up on my di*k
Pull up like "Skkrt", I might hop out wit your b*tch
FN go "click", when I empty out the clip
BOOM!