Young Roddy - Still Tryna Get It lyrics

(Verse) So it’s back to the block to make moves, I gotta get that looks, take that money like a chu. It’s on to the next, my own ground, own moves, And my paying job tryin to wait, I make your b**h through. I bet he don’t have a clue she sending pics to me nude, Turn that kitty into a pool, I’m a fool, sh**, that slow dope, I get the wasted blues, That OG keep my eyes sob woop But I’m all about my green, by all means that’s the truth Since a teen I’m in that dorm, get me room. Daydreaming about a cup of 22’s But in reality I’m sitting on this stoop I’ve seen cops beat a n******g back in bloom I swear they don’t know me from my cansoupe. I’m highed up, higher than your penthouse roof, sponsored links That’s that Good Sense 2 follow by the cantaloupe, n******g. (Hook) And I got a little money, but I’m still tryin’ get it, Still on my paper mission, still handle my business I love my sisters, I don’t love no b**hes, Make a b**h cry late, better than cry a river, It’s cold as December, I’m f**ing on my lungs My dope f**ing on this level from this weed and all this liquid And we still don’t give up, you know. (Verse) Try to smoke away my problems, but they ain’t worth, And for a quick dollar they’re here first. I found they got some letter on my head rest, Flow so sick, ain’t need bed rest. Hustling like I ain’t got no cash left, In this BF fade until my last breath. And ain’t sh** changed but my air dress Old school with the money in my mattress. Label me, I link a man a braveheart, True hustler, grinding with no days off. Try to get it while I’m still living Blunt piffing in a car with no ceiling. Try not to make the moves, try and shake the penitentiary, And I still say a prayer for my enemy. She stuck around when I was down, that’s a down b**h, She got goose, ain’t staying on no clown sh**. (Hook) And I got a little money, but I’m still tryin’ get it, Still on my paper mission, still handle my business I love my sisters, I don’t love no b**hes, Make a b**h cry late, better than cry a river, It’s cold as December, I’m f**ing on my lungs My dope f**ing on this level from this weed and all this liquid And we still don’t give up, you know.