Lyrics Baka Not Nice – Live Up To My Name
Text:
J–j–j–just in my zone, I close my figures up
All your hoes chose me, nigga, calm down
Louis pouch across my body, this is not for fashion
This is not a playground – ain’t no fist fight, bitch, I’m blastin’
If I tatted tears, I’d be cryin’ to my beard, man
Bitch, I’m tryna fuck, I’ve been inside for thirteen years now
I’ve been on so many flights, it’s like my record’s clear now
A.k.a. the man, a.k.a. I never ran
Don’t make me turn this red light on your head like you Roxanne
Only talk to bosses, not the second-in-command
Niggas bringin’ talks to me, you better have a plan
‘Cause they don’t have a cure for all my pain
A.k.a. it’s Not Nice and I live up to my name
Gyah, gyah! Diss The Boy? Are you insane?
I drink Henny when I shoot my pistol at the range
That way, when I’m tipsy, I still know I got my aim
A.k.a. it’s Not Nice and it’s not a fuckin’ game
Gyah, gyah! You and I, we’re not the same
Posted like Ibaka, got your wifey runnin’ brains
She was there with boydem, kicked my front door off the frame
She say I look like Usher when I’m trappin’ in the rain
Trap, trap, trappin’ in the rain
She say I look like Usher when I’m trappin’ in the rain
Just know I’m a shooter first and rap is not my thing
A.k.a. it’s Not Nice and I live up to my—
Hidin’ in the racks
I don’t pay tax, twelve on my back
Might drive the Caddy around but I never lack
Baka not with the shit? So yeah, who tellin’ you that?
When I came out, Timberlake was bringin’ Sexy Back
Facts, nigga! Facts!
I fell in love with my strap
Named my son Milli ’cause I want a milli’ to stack
Gyah, gyah! Go run and tell that
You niggas move like the cops, don’t make me pepper your block
Out the window while the whip’s movin’, that’s a hell of a shot
Fuck all my opps, I’ll put you niggas on FOX
Gyah, gyah! Diss The Boy? Are you insane?
I drink Henny when I shoot my pistol at the range
That way, when I’m tipsy, I still know I got my aim
A.K.A. it’s Not Nice and I live up to my—
