Pressa - Mansion lyrics

[Intro: Pressa] Uh, ayy We kick her out of the mansion Ayy, y'all, look Uh [Chorus: Pressa & Houdini] She keep on nagging a ni**a on dumb sh*t You gon' get yourself kicked out of the mansion, you dumb b*tch Small things, like look how much ni**as you come with She, uh, she put on a dress and blow trumpets We, uh, kick her out of the mansion to junction We known to fu*k up the city, destruction My b*tch just don't wanna hang and do cute sh*t She keep on making up stupid assumptions [Verse 1: Pressa] I just bought a Cuban but feel like I got finessed Heard jewelers mixin' diamonds, wanna know if I got stretched My ni**a lookin' at life, but can't imagine doing that His lawyer a hundred thousand, try and come up here with half I still pull up on anywhere with money on my head I— I be with them golden childs, gold all in they dreads And I know some b*tch ni**as with problems they won't address You see, I done lost my ni**a, ain't no tellin' where he went I was on the corner eating rice and chicken bowls I knew I could trust that b*tch with twenty bands that she would hold Screaming Wassi in every song, man, this sh*t will never get old, uh Pure cocaine, if it's not, it won't get sold [Chorus: Pressa & Houdini] She keep on nagging a ni**a on dumb sh*t You gon' get yourself kicked out of the mansion, you dumb b*tch Small things, like look how much ni**as you come with She, uh, she put on a dress and blow trumpets We, uh, kick her out of the mansion to junction We known to fu*k up the city, destruction My b*tch just don't wanna hang and do cute sh*t She keep on making up stupid assumptions [Verse 2: Houdini] I just bought some work, and that ho' bad, I ain't get kawalled Now her ni**as dope impaired, they really thinkin' that its raw, uh I was getting the pack all day for my pops, uh I was serving the crack cocaine in my mom's house Buckets circle the trap all night, merry-go-round Whatever you do in the dark might come to the light if they talk about it Bet you wanna come put up a fight, you gotta be grown about it I could stomp big racks up in these mics, don't got illegal money That ni**a, he got shot up in his eye, he never seen it comin' I never even gave that b*tch a blah, I told her, "Beat it, honey" Got so many options, can't even decide, too many labels want me Up in the mansion and we livin' life, ni**a, we made of money [Chorus: Pressa & Houdini] She keep on nagging a ni**a on dumb sh*t You gon' get yourself kicked out of the mansion, you dumb b*tch Small things, like look how much ni**as you come with She, uh, she put on a dress and blow trumpets We, uh, kick her out of the mansion to junction We known to fu*k up the city, destruction My b*tch just don't wanna hang and do cute sh*t She keep on making up stupid assumptions (Ayy) [Outro: Pressa] My b*tch don't wanna hang with your b*tch My b*tch don't wanna hang with your b*tch