Lyrics No Intro - Lancey Foux

No Intro

No introduction needed, I’m a genius
You know me, I stay G’d up
'Bout to go bigger than Meech
A-COLD-WALL* cardigan, fleece (Jay Trench)
I dress like I could have been Jesus
Walk with the thorns in my feet
Money gave me OCD
I stack up the racks, all neat
Your baby boy’s biting, they teethin'
SMA gold, I’ma feed them
Step outta line, I beat them
'Cause you and your daddy not even
Yeah, I was just broke, this the millionaire flow
They wish they were me and I wish that they won’t
Do with that shit, nigga, stand on your own
I’m on my own, I can’t give a dog a bone, yeah
Where your racks like I stole them, bag up the dough, yeah
Demon mode, tryna sell me a soul, yeah
2019, getting rich for the whole year
We eating good, no more rice at home, yeah
I make her soak, yeah, I get her wet-wet
Top, dome, neck-neck, coupe-coupe, 'Vette, bet
Don’t know 'bout that shoe spray, I still won’t protect it
N.E.R.D, yeah, I roll with a Tech Deck
I love a third eye, I know where you at
Just left Dubai, Rolls-Royce, back at the back
Hop on the flight, flight attendant know who I am
And she not my wife, she wanna smoke, yeah, she wanna pipe
How can she slap?
How can you slap?
How can she slap?
How can she slap?
Run up the racks, I ain’t goin' back to the trap
Hop on the stage, immediately go Mich Jack
These terrorist hoes tryna blow me like Iraq
Hopped on Earth, I wanna make more niggas wanna watch they back
It is what it is and it was what is was, this is this, this is that
No, I can’t go clueless, I’m in south like Ludacris
I sat down with Judas, you think I knew this?
Ride with a blue ting, causing a nuisance
All that talk, but you niggas just useless
I ain’t going outside, I ain’t going out stupid
African gene, yeah, talk with a toothpick
Skin never going away, can’t lose it
Verified in the streets, fuck a blue tick (Shit)
Count up the racks, make sure it’s all there
Young black and rich, got the racists scared
When I cry, nigga, got blood for tears
Money died and I can’t even think that I’ve failed
Food at the table, my niggas, we share
Fuck the charts, I’ma get a hit song this year
Big gelato, I don’t drink beer
I don’t wanna hear the word «sauce» in here
I ain’t tryna fuck, she tryna force me here
I want the dome, yeah, hands on her horse weave hair