8ball & Mjg - No Room lyrics

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8ball & Mjg - No Room lyrics

[Bridge: 8Ball] I ain’t got no room for none of that bullsh**, no room for none of you haters No room for none of that f** sh**, no room for none of that I ain’t got no room for none of that bullsh**, no room for none of you haters No room for none of that f** sh**, no room for none of you s**a’s [Hook: 8Ball] I ain’t got no room for none of that, I ain’t got no room for none of that I ain’t got no room for none of that, I ain’t got no room for none of that I ain’t got no room for none of that, I ain’t got no room for none of that I ain’t got no room for none of that, I ain’t got no room for none of that [Verse 1: 8Ball] I ain’t got no room for all of that talking, you and all them hoes b**h n***a keep walking, you f**ing up my flow Mary Jane in my suite, you can smell it when I heat it On that Hennessy straight, that sh** make a n***a act ig’nant Pop that pistol like a rule , extra clips on deck sponsored links Gold in my mouth and, gold around my neck Season up the track like, fat back on your mama greens Why I’m in your b**h face, fat back in your b**h jeans Bread, your conversation must contain it If it doesn’t then to me you’re just not entertaining I’m in my old school, top down, music banging Me and some hoes, not a bunch of lames hanging [Bridge] [Hook] [Verse 2: Trinidad James] Y’all see my cover, start hating I seen your b**h and start pimping Need an 8 ball of that hard sh**? My n***as get you straight I’m from the A-Town, we ride old school’s, we coming out skating I hit your b**h good, yeah that p**y hot, I was literally cumming out singing Please forgive me my sins, cause I see these haters again In the front and side of my mirror, trying to bring me down to them Trying to bring me down to end, turn back up on they a** Like three hits of that gas, like three hits of that gas I went from the cheetah shirt, red slacks, to a couple dollars in my hand To that cheetah thing, wearing twenty bands, in that motherf**ing bag I got motherf**ing swag, this swag f** your mama You can talk sh** if you want to, but hating not an option b**h [Hook] [Bridge] [Verse 3: 8Ball] I ain’t got no room for all of that playing, money what we ’bout n***as better watch what they saying, that iron will come out The one that’s in my jeans, good weed and bands of that bread The key to what I pulled up in, good weed and bands of that bread Magnificent, fat boy he be ripping sh** Some people don’t see the gift, fat boy he don’t give a sh** Talk it like I see it, my vision sometimes is distorted Talking from my heart, write it down and then record it Ride to it and smoke, me and one of my hoes She in stretch pants and heels and her fingers match her toes Sprite of the DJ Screw, obstructing my view Don’t speak when I see ya’, that mean I don’t f** with you [Bridge] [Hook]