Lyrics to You Ain't Fly
[Message to the Gangsta's:]
Ay man, it a lot of cats out here man,
these cats imposters man, these cats impersonating ballers man, I'm telling you man,
these nigga really broke out here on the low,
You do not have to lie to kick it man, I swear man. Hey...
[CHORUS: T.I.]
...Ya lyin' bout that dough you say you got,
You aint fly
Wit them cloudy ass rocks in ya watch,
You aint fly
See, you imitatin' cats who really hot but,
You aint fly
Man, you niggas need to stop you know you barely getting by
You aint fly
Ya lyin' bout that dough you say you getting'
You aint fly
In you monkey suits, swearin that you pimpin'
You aint fly
Seriously pimpin', stop your bullshitin'
You aint fly
Out here flexin' for them bitches when you barely getting by
[VERSE 1: T.I.]
I hate to see a nigga on some dummy shit,
Talking big money shit,
Livin' wit his mom, swear God that he runnin' shit,
Hey listen, I aint the one you wanna talk money wit,
Cause I run through and look at you like, Where the money at?
You ought be ashamed of you chain, I'm makin' fun of that,
Charm flickin' from time to time tryin to shine,
My shit up under my shirt and you admirin' mine,
Whoever told you that bullshit, will fly you a line,
I got a watch wit no diamonds,
Cost twice as much as that bullshit you wear when you call yourself shining,
And your ring, Boy stop it,
You need to take that neck bullshit chain and put them both in your pocket.
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 2: T.I.]
Ha, these niggas tickle me,
Why the gotta kick it like they rich, to me?
I been doin' this since I was six, so this aint shit to me,
Man, I been fly since junior high and elementary,
My uncles raised a G,
But my daddy made a pimp of me,
I never been a wannabe,
I'm everything you wannabe,
As long as bitches lookin,
I'mma give 'em what they wanna see,
Your outfit cost less than my underclothes,
Ya ride aint shit man, I put my bitch in one of those,
My rides ridiculous, five and sixes,
Had the Rolls Royce, til I decided to switch it,
Now I'm in the Maybach,
Notice mines extended,
Feet kicked up, curtains closed, mind your business nigga.
[CHORUS x2]
Ay man, it a lot of cats out here man,
these cats imposters man, these cats impersonating ballers man, I'm telling you man,
these nigga really broke out here on the low,
You do not have to lie to kick it man, I swear man. Hey...
[CHORUS: T.I.]
...Ya lyin' bout that dough you say you got,
You aint fly
Wit them cloudy ass rocks in ya watch,
You aint fly
See, you imitatin' cats who really hot but,
You aint fly
Man, you niggas need to stop you know you barely getting by
You aint fly
Ya lyin' bout that dough you say you getting'
You aint fly
In you monkey suits, swearin that you pimpin'
You aint fly
Seriously pimpin', stop your bullshitin'
You aint fly
Out here flexin' for them bitches when you barely getting by
[VERSE 1: T.I.]
I hate to see a nigga on some dummy shit,
Talking big money shit,
Livin' wit his mom, swear God that he runnin' shit,
Hey listen, I aint the one you wanna talk money wit,
Cause I run through and look at you like, Where the money at?
You ought be ashamed of you chain, I'm makin' fun of that,
Charm flickin' from time to time tryin to shine,
My shit up under my shirt and you admirin' mine,
Whoever told you that bullshit, will fly you a line,
I got a watch wit no diamonds,
Cost twice as much as that bullshit you wear when you call yourself shining,
And your ring, Boy stop it,
You need to take that neck bullshit chain and put them both in your pocket.
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 2: T.I.]
Ha, these niggas tickle me,
Why the gotta kick it like they rich, to me?
I been doin' this since I was six, so this aint shit to me,
Man, I been fly since junior high and elementary,
My uncles raised a G,
But my daddy made a pimp of me,
I never been a wannabe,
I'm everything you wannabe,
As long as bitches lookin,
I'mma give 'em what they wanna see,
Your outfit cost less than my underclothes,
Ya ride aint shit man, I put my bitch in one of those,
My rides ridiculous, five and sixes,
Had the Rolls Royce, til I decided to switch it,
Now I'm in the Maybach,
Notice mines extended,
Feet kicked up, curtains closed, mind your business nigga.
[CHORUS x2]
Songwriters: HARRIS, CLIFFORD J./QUINN, DARWIN CORDALE
Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Powered by LyricFind