YoungBoy Never Broke Again, Moneybagg Yo - Homicide lyrics

To fuck with me you lucky and you know it
Put your phone off, bitch, you tweakin'
Tryin' to record
Knew the cross was coming 'fore it happened
I saw it
They throwin' shots, ain't hit shit
Trying my best to ignore it
She on socials tryna bash me
Bitch tryna get off
He tryna get under my skin and diss me
He tryna get off
You see me but I ain't see you
Why you ain't get off?
I catch my man it ain't no question
I'ma get off

Yellow bitch, yellow diamonds, ooh
I'm pissed off
The way she love me and she fuck me
Ooh she gettin' off
He talking hard, approach him
Watch how fast he get soft
Rapid fire, nothin' stop him
Choppers lettin' off
If I catch you I'm gettin' off
I'm tryna knock your whole shit off
You and your mans too
I'll drop the bag on the whole crew
Ben be suffocating
The hundreds they be all blue
I'm on a whole 'nother level, the bitches
They all-new speaking of bitches
A bitch tryna get off on
Instagram 'cause I fell back
Why you ain't make a post how you fucked
The whole clique, bitch go tell that, Hah
These rappers tryna sneak diss, tryna
Get off to get on, Hah
Catch their ass in public
They gon' get right and get gone

To fuck with me you lucky and you know it
Put your phone off, bitch, you tweakin'
Tryin' to record
Knew the cross was coming 'fore it happened
I saw it
They throwin' shots, ain't hit shit
Trying my best to ignore it
She on socials tryna bash me
Bitch tryna get off
He tryna get under my skin and diss me
He tryna get off
You see me but I ain't see you
Why you ain't get off?
I catch my man it ain't no question
I'ma get off

Before the rap money
Young nigga was ballin' way before it
I don't do no talkin'
I drop a bag on 'em then nigga you know it
I bought me a pint of that Hi Tech
I crack it and pour it
I crunch up the X, end up in my mouth
You know that I throw it
She all in my section, she
Steady keep pressin', but no
She don't know it when I'm up in Texas, I
Ride with that Wesson, Just me and my boys
I swear it's controlling me, seventeen
Got four sons
Tryna go cop me 'bout four foreigns
Studio on the bus, I'm touring
I swear I don't put no effort in these songs
Bet these niggas pissed off, mad
At me and Bagg, Aw
Grandma gone, I hold it down
No I won't flock, I keep it strong
These bitches be aching, I steady be raking
So when I'm recording, don't call my phone

To fuck with me you lucky and you know it
Put your phone off, bitch, you tweakin'
Tryin' to record
Knew the cross was coming 'fore it happened
I saw it
They throwin' shots, ain't hit shit
Trying my best to ignore it
She on socials tryna bash me
Bitch tryna get off
He tryna get under my skin and diss me
He tryna get off
You see me but I ain't see you
Why you ain't get off?
I catch my man it ain't no question
I'ma get off