Young Roddy - Still Tryna Get It (2013)

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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 bitch 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,
Shit, 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 nigger back in bloom
I swear they don’t know me from my cansoupe.
I’m highed up, higher than your penthouse roof,
That’s that Good Sense 2 follow by the cantaloupe, nigger.

[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 bitches,
Make a bitch cry late, better than cry a river,
It’s cold as December, I’m fucking on my lungs
My dope fucking 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 shit 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 bitch,
She got goose, ain’t staying on no clown shit.

[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 bitches,
Make a bitch cry late, better than cry a river,
It’s cold as December, I’m fucking on my lungs
My dope fucking on this level from this weed and all this liquid
And we still don’t give up, you know.


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