Rossy - No Flex

{Intro}
Hey, Rossy

{Verse 1: T-Bone}
I don’t gotta flex
There ain’t no chains that gon’ hang round my neck
Yuh, I ain’t been slanging but still running checks
I’m running these other dudes straight into debt
Now I’m gonna collect, bet
If they don’t got the dough then their face and my fist get to know
Docie do
Yeah, they gonna connect
I may steal their bitch
And if so then she gon’ genuflect
And pay her respects
So hop off my dick
Don’t need no diamonds on wrist
And no nice fit
To slide into the clit
I’m just here to spit
On the mic or a dyke type bitch
And if you tryna fight, I go Mike Tyson
I’ll be knocking yo ass on the muhfucking curb
And then sicking the boys when I’m giving the word
I’ll fuck over whoever, got no self-concern
So please do not try me
I don’t play nicely
I’m not here playing dress-up with the brands
I’m hunting for coochie and runnin' up bands
If you gotta problem, you catching these hands
You dense ass bitch, prolly don’t understand
Where is yo mans?
Oh, shit I forgot
I done got that boy clocked out up at the lot
Left his body to rot
Now he probably gone
Yeah, he up with God
Oh, shit wait
Nah, man
He down in Hell
You better get on man
Or you go as well
Send my regards
Postcard in the mail
I ‘gon start my shit
They’ll be parting to bail
Pardon my French
But y’all just some bitches
Talking yo shit
And then flaunting yo riches
I give no fucks
I’m just here for the business
Fucking it up
And then leaving no witness
On God
I ain’t been fucking with broads
Just to say that I slay
I just do what I want
And man I don’t get paid
But hey that’s ok
I ain’t here to go flex
I’m just spraying the flames on the daily
Fuck what they saying
Yeah it do not phase me
You place your value on chains and Mercedes
I just place value on shit that ‘gon make me good
Making me feel just the way that I should
That’s word to my friends and that’s word to the hook
Yeah I ain’t gon flex just for likes and the looks
I’m just messing with syllables, getting y’all shook
I’m Leaving ‘em dead til the feds gonna book me
I ain’t ‘gon fess up for nothing, no cookie
Only blinded by the booty and pussy
I ain’t chasing clout, I’m just tryna play hookie, yeah

{Verse 2: YMN}
Shotgun until you just fuck out my face
I been at this shit since day one like a race
I think they don’t like me but I get my ways
You stealing my thunder you copy and paste

Where are the fuck are your manners, hah
You fuck that bitch she don’t matter, hey
She kinda thick like cake batter, aye
I climb that shit with a ladder, yeah

You think that it’s funny
Grabbing your hundreds and flexin' ur hunnies
Bitch on your waist, you bucktooth like Bugs Bunny
Keep buying your flows with all your money

Fuck on this shit
I keep on attacking you know that you’ll split
If not then your throat will be slit
I don't care if they call me a fucking misfit

{Outro}
Bye, Rossy