No Promotion lyrics

[Verse 1: Blue Pesos & Duffy]
I could spot an opp from a mile away
Pull up, double park the car, hop out and spark a n*gga
Million dollars rappin', no promotion, no advertisement
Mussle pullin' up, just turned the club to a fatty party
Fifty thousand dollars worth of diamonds on me
n*gga said it's money on my head, I ain't worried 'bout it
You know the fully auto filled with lead? Grip carbon fiber
Cartier watch match the kit, yes, my sauce different
We don't talk with the feds, if he do, then it's off with his head
You don't make enough bread, damn near hangin' from a thread
I just gave 28 a head nod, enough said
Wock' and red got me feelin' like I'm walkin' with the dead
Two letters, F&N
Opp shredder, me and him best of friends, love to bend blocks with him
They gon' send me to the feds, you try and take a piece from me
Deep clean a n*gga block with mopsticks and street sweepers
I'm too poured, damn near playin', eyes low, I can't stare
These 7.62s'll hit his face and his vaneers
We the boss, feed the family, we last, that's how it go (Ayy)
Name ring bells in the street (b*tch), I'm always with a couple locs

[Verse 2: Duffy]
Sheesh, Duff just flu flammed the loc'
Get dough, get dough, I did that, I need more
It's just me and Pesos, get the low and kick door
Keep a big pole on me, gotta bring that bag home
Foreign coupe, wrist dancin', fin on me, hood trophy
No promotion, if we really got smoke, we ain't gon' post it
Keep the truth alive, sh*t, we said that and stood on it
Just hit an opp with a chop, we ain't puttin' no hands on him
Score on him, f*ck a field goal, b*tch, we goin' for it
No punk rocks, only stompdowns, come hold for me
K got kickback, it gave me whiplash, it's not a Torris
Remember back then, we rode the 210, now we in foreigns (You know the truth)
Flexin', Hulk Hogan, jumpin' out the flyest whips
Hundred thousand on the floor? Yeah, that's some OTM sh*t
Got the slap on me, I got bands callin', holler back
Old fan-ass n*gga, what you want? An autograph?
[Verse 3: 28Shots]
I'm Mr. Pull Up Drop Shots, I'm quick to get up on your ass
We throw a piece, so he confused, oh, he must ain't do the math
Oh, he don't know me? Know he do, 'cause I done flu flammed the stash
n*ggas broke and they still stale, so they feelin' real bad
Oh, your b*tch, she tryna f*ck, but she allergic to cash
And my b*tch, she took a trip and came back with an ass
And that's a whole lot of cash, it couldn't even fit in my stash
And why these n*ggas screamin' beef and they be quick to call crash
Said I'ma let the juice spill while I'm swervin' the coupe
I lost my cousin last month, this sh*t been tweakin' me too
And I don't even f*ck with n*ggas, so I stay with my tool
I lost big bro and I can't speak until I pop somethin' too
And you know how we do, we'll put his ass on the news
And why these n*ggas be in snakes and still thinkin' we cool?
A lot of n*ggas don't like my music 'cause I was f*ckin' they boo
And she be quick to set the play if I'm tellin' her to
She said, "This n*gga wrist bust", I said, "I need that too"
She said, "Oh, you got your own? You can't be my boo"
'Cause I'm a slimy-ass n*gga when it's comin' to you
'Cause you be tryna f*ck these n*ggas, then f*ck on me too
28

[Outro: 28Shots]
b*tch, hahahahaha
[?]
Damn it, Bobby
Hey, how'd he get so icy, n*gga?
In six months, n*gga?
f*ck wrong with these n*ggas?
How'd he get so icy, ayy, this n*gga
This sh*t no real, yeah, alright, b*tch