Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nobody Loves Me, artist - Stack BundlesDate of issue: 16.09.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Nobody Loves Me |
| Look here. |
| See I grew up around the projects |
| Grew up around the Glocks yes |
| Taught to fend for myself whenever Pops left |
| A good kid turnin' into a hood prospect, why? |
| If so, it was after the bread risin' (Right) |
| After I put the hood on like Lil Red Ridin' |
| The gangsta that’s glorifyin' |
| And strugglin' bubbled number for a stack |
| And that’s a fact… until that? |
| (Oh!) |
| And if they did, I never felt it |
| Spent a couple nights in a box, I couldn’t help it (Dawg, I couldn’t help it) |
| When niggas on the tier ice grilled, I had to melt it |
| Dream was on the right track… somebody rebelled it |
| Was taught cash rules, but I ain’t have a dollar for livin' |
| No window, no pot to piss in (So!) |
| So all my dudes in they cells that’s locked in prison, is it cause. |
| (Nope!) |
| Til I pissed a few niggas off like Bill O’Reilly (Right) |
| Exposed the game’s soft spot like Maury (Ha!) |
| Showed the hustlers how we |
| Turned an advance to a grand finale (Heh) |
| Look here |
| I was doin' pull ups and eatin' pancakes (And then?) |
| And then I pulled up in that pancake (Talk to 'em!) |
| Suicide doors, iced the band and the face |
| Yes Jerze…(Ok) |
| Til I proved my name was a factor (How?) |
| Summertime, played the crate |
| Bathin' 8ths and chains that’ll change the chill factor (Schieeeet!) |
| Two toned toy to antagonize the children (Right) |
| It’s still Roc For Life like they kicked me out the building |
| But I ain’t goin' nowhere, at least no time soon |
| So get used to me, real niggas rep, that’s how it used to be |
| F-Y-I, still got the deuce-deuce wit' me |
| Why? |
| (I know… so?) |
| That’s why I got niggas robbed for their jewelry (Right) |
| Brought heaters to where my goons be (Right) |
| My divas in (?) (Right) |
| My groupies rockin' that Juicy (Whoo!) |
| 40's on me but usually |
| The roofless coupe’s on the corner like a hooptie |
| (Right, right) |
| Oh! |
| I know! |
| It’s like I didn’t feel the love |
| Until I put the 645 on dubs |
| And sueded out the guts |
| In the belly of the beast, you make it out with guts |
| In that title, homeboys is naked without the trust (Ya Heard!) |
| Rep-wise I’m celibate, ain’t a soul fuckin' wit' 'em (Uh huh) |
| Emcees watch they mouths like Chris Tucker wit' 'em (Heh) |
| Up and comer’s owe me, until I’m paid, you stuck wit' 'em |
| (Why?) |
| Cause. |