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No Topic - BlocBoy JB
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No Topic BlocBoy JB

No Topic - BlocBoy JB
[Intro]
Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up (Ha)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck it, ha, ha

[Verse]
Made this song and it got no topic, fuckin' your thottie
Just got off the phone with Yo Gotti, he like, "What's poppin'?"
I moved that pound like a man
Down on my knees, I stayed low for some bigger plans
You used to ball, call you Chris Grant
Full of gelato, bitch you know the stench (gas, gas, gas)
Smoke an O so that's full court
Add it up bitch, that's a dollar worth
Your bitch, she all on my collared shirt
Bitch I told you this ain't Holister
I make her walk like I'm out of there (walkin')
Wrist gold, mouth gold, really everything gold on me
I unload my pistol, turn an opp to a dead homie
You gotta roll though, pull up in four door (skrrt skrrt)
That nigga a bitch (why?), he shoot with his eyes closed
I ain't no ordinary nigga, bitch I'm an ordinary killer
I got like seventeen choppers and at least forty-seven pistols
Drippin' sauce in this bitch, now they like whoa
Rock Revival jeans, fresh from head to toe
Say I'm ugly, yeah I know so (I know so, I know so)
But I still can fuck on your ho (that's my ho bitch)
Bitch, go get you some new clothes (some new clothes ho)
You had them black pants up in school ho (you did)
I had them Dickies in that motherfucker (in that motherfucker)
We smokin' sticky in this motherfucker (gas, gas)
Her name Vicky, have a quickie in this motherfucker (I'm finna fuck her)
She might give my dick a hickie in this motherfucker (might give a sucker)
Hit the club, got my glizzy in this motherfucker (yah)
Two hitters outside in the car, call them the splash brothers (that's on my mama)
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