TyFontaine - ​friendemy lyrics

[TyFontaine - ​friendemy lyrics]

Hahaha, Nick, you're stupid
1800 shit in this bitch, ah, yeah
1800 shit in this bitch, ah,  yeah
Oh Lord, Jetson made another one

What these niggas know about me?
I'll tell you nothing (Tell you nothing)
Mobbin' on the money, boy
You know I'm up to something
(Up to something) you really think I sit on
My ass and do nothing? (Do nothing?)
You shittin' me?
(Shittin' me?) You kiddin'
Me? (Kiddin' me?)

I could feel these niggas tryna get rid of me
(Tryna get rid of me)
Fake type niggas, see 'em on the phone, huh
They so sick of me
Never gave a fuck about my enemies
And if you ain't 'bout the skrilla, boy
You ain't a friend to me, nah, nah
Nah (Nah, nah, nah)

If you talkin' that rah rah rah
(Rah rah rah)
We got Glockies for 'em, choppas for 'em
Grrah-pop-pop (Buh buh)
No, I don't want hear your
Nonsense that blah, blah, blah
(Blah, blah, blah)
Beam at his head, got him to cha, cha, cha
(Cha, cha, cha) boy ripped
(Brr) , off the fake shit (Off the fake shit)
I couldn't take it
Had to sabotage to make it (Had to make it)
If you ain't first, you're last
(Last) , Ricky Bobby (Ricky Bobby)
Had to get up off this rap shit
It ain't a hobby (It ain't a hobby)

And this ain't for everyone
You should know that (Yeah! Yeah)
If it's too hot in the kitchen
You should go back (Too hot)
Have you ever wanted somethin' so
Much? Don't think you have
Cut off everything 'cause you want it so bad

What these niggas know about me?
I'll tell you nothing (Yeah)
Mobbin' on the money, boy
You know I'm up to something
(Up to something) you really think I sit on
My ass and do nothing? (Do nothing?)
You shittin' me?
(You shittin' me?) You kiddin'
Me? (You kiddin' me?)

I could feel these niggas tryna get rid of me
(Tryna get rid of me)
Fake type niggas, see 'em on the phone, huh
They so sick of me
Never gave a fuck about my enemies
And if you ain't 'bout the skrilla, boy
You ain't a friend to me, nah, nah
Nah (Nah, nah, nah)

I could feel these niggas tryna get rid of me
(Tryna get rid of me)
Fake type niggas, see 'em on the phone, huh
They so sick of me
Never gave a fuck about my enemies
('Bout my enemies)
And if you ain't 'bout the skrilla, boy
You ain't a friend to me, nah, nah
Nah

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