Lyrics Can't Complain - 42 Dugg, Reaper

Can't Complain

Volume
Young Turnt Nigga
volume 3, 4, 5 bitch
Free the 6, bitch
Can’t be fucked with at all (Yeah)
Pop my back, we be like «Fuck it, I rap»
Mel like «Fuck it, I’m next»
Cuh what’s good?
Really mean, thug what’s good?
Rich young nigga from the hood, I don’t flash no paper
Just spent twenty on bae, funny 'cause she love her ex
Sike I’m lyin, I don’t really love no bitch
No bitch can come between mine and 4 Gang
Still bangin', please act crazy bitch and get naked
I drive crazy bitch, 'cause I’m crazy
Count up a million cash with my babies
Can’t no money get you in that club
Just on a five, I spend a dub
Show no love I don’t give no fucks
I don’t do no kiddin', that’s on my nigga
We ride six deep down
Rich young nigga from the east side
Which one of y’all niggas fuck with me?
Put the dope down back, fuckin' with the weed
Movin dog food, bitch, state to state
Everything good, I can’t complain
Red eye, red kill man to chop on the six
Get the za for the cheap, get the drop, I’ma spin
Free my nigga Woo, need to let him out the feds
I don’t wanna fuck, how much you want for the head?
I done lost count how many times I done slid
We don’t shut our cars, we hop out sprayin'
Long as they pray the lil' boy I’ma get it
Can’t be fucked with, we the turntest in the city
Switches on the Glock but the chop got titties
Run a now it’s time to get busy
Heard some niggas plottin', come try and get finished
Get one block hit and turn it into two
This tough side, I’ma leave a nigga room
Spent a hundred thou' on the jewels
Can’t pull less than a deuce
Boy, I won’t drop shit with a five
These my only niggas that ain’t died
Please cross the line, put ten on a nigga, tap ten
Make a friend do nigga, or die, only friends anyway
Dugg be gettin' to the pay
Dugg got bitches in the A
Dugg got a bitch with a Drac'
She let it blow when I’ll say, say, say
Bitch blow, still ain’t hittin' my dope
Still ain’t concealin' my pole
Fuck what they on
There ain’t no shootin' when I’m home
But niggas wanna beef on the phone
Yeah, I get it, bad bitch with me, big ass, big titties
I ain’t crashin' out, at least not in my city
What’s the hatin' about?
Had my truck early
What’s the waitin' about?
I could cash anything
Niggas say that I’m out, no, I make me feel
Caught home stressin', my niggas in jail
Scooter not here, Neff not neither
I let a bitch go before she think I need her
I’ll leave a bitch lone before a bitch start cheatin'
Get the fuck on, nah, I don’t trust hoes
Still with the custos, made me rich
Still sippin' wock, shit made me sick
From the third to the fifth, I done moved two bricks
I ain’t heard about shit, who the fuck is you?
Hundred for a show and I still move blues
Bitch
Fuck wrong with these niggas and these hoes?
I ain’t know no fightin', put cheese on you, yeah
You know bro, bought him a new truck, yeah
We don’t do bodies, we don’t do buffs, yeah
And my ex bitch had two buffs, ex bitch had two trucks
Fuck wrong with these niggas
I’m gone