Cancer Stick No Pressure lyrics

Version #1: "Cancer Stick" / "Cinco De Mayo"

[Intro: Offset]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Chorus: Offset]
Do like I do, n*gga flip you some money
Okay, we really came up from nothing
Two hundred that sh*t, the clutch in the foreign
Two hundred racks in the trap when I'm touring
Thanking the lord when I wake up this morning
Christian Dior when I'm dressing in garments
Yeah, shoot at my targets
Yeah, aiming at artists
Yeah, trap out the Hellcat Charger
You n*ggas character, Marvel
Take your shoes off on my marble
Your b*tches got lost in the sauce, off the startle
I pour up the drink and I give her a narco
Run with your pack, where is Waldo?
Look at my history, bags in my bio
Migo like Cinco de Mayo

[Verse 1: Offset]
Migo like Cinco de Mayo, I got the trap in my bio
Yeah, mini fourteen with the drum, I put your ass on a flyer
Uh, n*ggas out here really bums
Want take your b*tch, I might buy her
Uh, sippin' on lean like it's rum, but it do not get me tired
Uh, if you gon' pull out that gun, you better c*ck it and fire
Uh, b*tch I came up from a crumb, did this for grandma, she flyin'
Uh, you can come still get a one, f*ck it my n*ggas gon' jump
Uh, saw off the front of the pump, put the gun up to your gum
50K on me lil homie, 100K knock 'em off sandy
b*tches out here need some money
Or they dependent on Monday
Peace to you b*tches like Ghandi
One of my friends is a junky, f*ck
Get up and get you some money, uh
Cookie smell like it is fungus
The bella, the OG, the onion, yeah
Pull out that fire, now he runnin'
He just caught four to the stomach, uh
He got some blood in his vomit
I cut the cord off your bungee
Goyard got racks in abundance
Hop on the jet out to London
12 behind me so I punch it
[Chorus: Offset]
Do like I do, n*gga flip you some money
Okay, we really came up from nothing
Two hundred that sh*t, the clutch in the foreign
Two hundred racks in the trap when I'm touring
Thanking the lord when I wake up this morning
Christian Dior when I'm dressing in garments
Yeah, shoot at my targets
Yeah, aiming at artists
Yeah, trap out the Hellcat Charger
You n*ggas character, Marvel
Take your shoes off on my marble
Your b*tches got lost in the sauce, off the startle
I pour up the drink and I give her a narco
Run with your pack, where is Waldo?
Look at my history, bags in my bio
Migo like Cinco de Mayo

[Verse 2: Young Nudy]
I'm all in Texas, all in Houston, n*gga sippin' on drank
Got a whole damn paint, n*gga just cashed on a bank
Yeah n*gga, I got money
Yeah b*tch, what you think?
All these b*tches love slimeball, yeah they love the plate
When it come to play, they know how I play
I got money in my pocket plus I got a pocket rocket
n*ggas think they gon' stop me, bro I'm c*cked and I'm gon' pop it
And I don't do no poppin', all my guns on poppin'
I just like to pop bodies, yeah I love to see 'em drop it
Yeah I like your b*tch, she just pop, lock, and drop it
Yeah I'm in her, young n*gga get in her, yeah
Racks on me in the air, yeah
She wanna f*ck for the cheese, yeah
I know you snitchin', you cheese, yeah
Hold on dawg, I don't even f*ck with that dawg
I'm a real big dawg
Roof, n*gga I step on you dawg
n*ggas ain't gettin' no money, quit flexing
n*ggas ain't choppin' up sh*t, quit flexing
n*gga been choppin' up sh*t, no flexing
All this goddamn money, I'm flexing
Blue hundred b*tch, n*gga know I stay flexing
You ain't got no money, f*ck n*gga you flexing n*gga
Meanwhile, while you flexing on another n*gga's b*tch
All these goddamn hoes on my di*k
Yeah, you need to come check on your b*tch, yeah
All these b*tches, lil b*tch
Yeah I got your b*tch on my b*tch, yeah
And I got rich, gettin' rich, yeah
n*gga you could never get this, yeah
All this guap on me, yeah
Know the big Glock on me, yeah
Know will pop with me, yeah
Please don't try me B, yeah
And you know I'm big blood
And you know I'm big dawg, yeah
And I know you a b*tch, yeah
And I know you lil dawg
n*gga do like I do, n*gga get you some money
n*gga get you some money
Money on your head, my young n*ggas gunnin'
n*ggas havin' discussions, he's talkin' 'bout money
n*gga don't talk to me pus*y, it ain't 'bout no money
Yeah n*gga, don't talk to me n*gga, it ain't 'bout no money n*gga
Ayy man I don't know what to tell y'all n*ggas
Y'all n*ggas some broke ass f*cks man
f*ck you n*ggas
Huh, look at me, copy me n*gga
[Chorus: Offset]
Do like I do, n*gga flip you some money
Okay, we really came up from nothing
Two hundred that sh*t, the clutch in the foreign
Two hundred racks in the trap when I'm touring
Thanking the lord when I wake up this morning
Christian Dior when I'm dressing in garments
Yeah, shoot at my targets
Yeah, aiming at artists
Yeah, trap out the Hellcat Charger
You n*ggas character, Marvel
Take your shoes off on my marble
Your b*tches got lost in the sauce, off the startle
I pour up the drink and I give her a narco
Run with your pack, where is Waldo?
Look at my history, bags in my bio
Migo like Cinco de Mayo

Version #2: "No Pressure"

[Chorus: Young Nudy]
John Wayne, Smith and Wesson
Cross him out, give him a blessing
All white duct tape, put him on a stretcher
Hell yeah slimeball, n*gga I'll bless ya
Anything go for the money, want extra
Been getting money, boy I know I need extra
n*gga wanna talk, boy I know you got pressure
Shoot you in your face, motherf*cker no pressure
I do the smoke n*gga, Newport
Short a n*gga pack, no Newport
Rob a n*gga blind, no new folk
I don't really f*ck with you new folks
Put him in the chair, n*gga death row
Cut his ass out, n*gga cutthroat
Slimeball n*gga got mojo
[Verse 1: Young Nudy]
Yea I got lean for days (for days)
b*tch I got plays on plays (plays)
b*tch I got J's on J's (J's)
b*tch I got glass for glass (glass)
b*tch I got cash on cash (cash)
Drop it on a n*gga's mans on mans (on mans)
n*gga f*ck what you saying (f*ck what you saying)
Make a n*gga cross out his mans (make him cross him out)
Anything go for the bands (for the bands)
Brrrr (do that n*gga)
n*gga I'm on that sh*t (on that sh*t)
n*gga really on that sh*t (I swear)
b*tch all on my di*k (yeah)
Your baby mama on my di*k (yeah)
All these hoes on my di*k (I swear)
Big Glock 40, big di*k (big forty)

[Chorus: Young Nudy & Offset]
John Wayne, Smith and Wesson (John Wayne)
Cross him out, give him a blessing (pew pew)
All white duct tape, put him on a stretcher (pew pew)
Hell yeah slimeball, n*gga I'll bless ya (slime)
Anything go for the money, want extra (woo)
Been getting money, boy I know I need extra (extra)
n*gga wanna talk, boy I know you got pressure (pressure)
Shoot you in your face, motherf*cker no pressure (brt brt brt)
I do the smoke n*gga, Newport (smoke)
Short a n*gga pack, no Newport (pack)
Rob a n*gga blind, no new folk (blind)
I don't really f*ck with you new folks (no)
Put him in the chair, n*gga death row (death row)
Cut his ass out, n*gga cutthroat (ughh)
Slimeball n*gga got mojo (slimeball)
Yeah I got 'em

[Verse 2: Offset]
Black Mulssane hogging both lanes (Mulssane)
Stick with the kick like Liu Kang (woah)
Forgiato white, ice cocaine (woo)
Ice up the chain for the gang gang (gang gang)
Put the laser on your brain for some chump change (brr)
n*ggas in the field, n*gga do or die (field)
n*gga write your will when the bullet fly (hey)
Don't be playing with the mill 'cause it's suicide (nah)
Having racks like Illuminati (racks)
Get a n*gga wacked, smell like porta-potties (wack)
Shot him in the back, got him Milly Rocking (uh)
Chopping off the hatch, foreign coupe exotic (woo)
Backends in the trap, that's a double profit (double profit)
Hit him with the axe, don't talk about it (axe)
Matte black MAC, shoot the sparks up out it (brrt brrt brrt brrrt)

[Chorus: Young Nudy]
John Wayne, Smith and Wesson
Cross him out, give him a blessing
All white duct tape, put him on a stretcher
Hell yeah slimeball, n*gga I'll bless ya
Anything go for the money, want extra
Been getting money, boy I know I need extra
n*gga wanna talk, boy I know you got pressure
Shoot you in your face, motherf*cker no pressure
I do the smoke n*gga, Newport
Short a n*gga pack, no Newport
Rob a n*gga blind, no new folk
I don't really f*ck with you new folks
Put him in the chair, n*gga death row
Cut his ass out, n*gga cutthroat
Slimeball n*gga got mojo
Yeah I got 'em