Versuri Lil Tecca – Why U Look Mad lyrics
I like this song, we love you Tecca
“Why you look so mad?” (Ginseng)
“Why you look so mad all the time?”
I like—
F*ck out of my face, n*gga
You n*ggas b*tches, leave me the f*ck alone
I don’t even f*ck with y’all, what the f*ck you talkin’ ’bout?
Tecca
Just woke up, I freestyle, n*gga, man, this shit don’t stop (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah, rockin’ Rick Owens on my b*tch, she bad, got a Gucci crop top (Yeah, yeah)
Run up on a n*gga, get it lit like BIC if a n*gga talkin’ hot (b*tch)
I just make new hit today, n*gga mad ’cause I’m hot and you not (New hit)
I just pour up a deuce of that cup
Pour up a deuce of that Wock’ (That Wock’)
And your b*tch on my d*ck, gettin’ top
B*tch on my d*ck, gettin’ top (Gettin’ top)
Whole time he think he on top
He an addi’, he sippin’ on drop (On drop)
Man, I know that they don’t understand me, whole time and I don’t give a f*ck (Don’t give a f*ck)
They like, “Tecca, why you so moody?” Lil’ n*gga, I’m just in my mood (Why you so mad?)
I don’t f*ck with you n*ggas, I’m not quiet, I just don’t talk to you (Talk to my b*tch)
They say “Tecca, why you look mad?” Lil’ n*gga, that just be my mood (My mood)
They say “Tecca, why you look mad?” Lil’ n*gga, that just be my mood
Two b*tches on my d*ck, they arguin’, n*gga, like Family Feud
They say “Tecca switched up on the gang, ” lil’ n*gga, yeah, you know it ain’t true (f*ck your gang)
Some n*ggas, they stole from me
Some n*ggas, they flopped on me (Punk-ass n*ggas)
Got your b*tch givin’ top on me, if a n*gga talkin’ hot on me (n*ggas is b*tches)
Man, some n*ggas try to steal sauce, n*gga think I don’t peep that shit (Stealin’ the sauce)
Man, some n*ggas try to steal from my house, I peep that shit (Steal from my house)
I peeped that b*tch, she move funny, n*gga, I peep that shit
And you think that you gotta watch the opps, whole time, you gotta watch your clique (Watch your own gang)
And I see the gang do funny shit, whole time I gotta make that click (On gang)
And I know who was real right that one day I got hit (I got hit)
Man, these n*ggas think they angelic, I don’t even really f*ck with you, b*tch (Yeah)
Man this shit too easy, freestyling in the mic, really do this shit (Yeah, yeah)
F*cking so many thots, I damn near forgot I knew this b*tch (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Man, I just got a check, I ain’t even gon’ lie, I blew this shit (10K)
Ran down on a opp crib, man, they thought we just moved in (Moved in)
I don’t f*ck with no thots, I ain’t gon’ lie, they choosin’
They choosin’, you ain’t winnin’
I do this, I got your b*tch and she f*ck with the clique
I don’t got no clique, I just gotta die
I stir up the pot, bro sippin’ that ‘Wock
He can’t even walk, I got the gas, no NOS
Gas, no NOS, gas, no NOS
Ay, shout out Ginseng
You know how we f*ckin’ comin’, f*ck outta here, n*gga
Man, these n*ggas b*tches
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