Day By Day Lyrics

Nahh Forreal

Ha, Nahh Forreal

Pump up the jam

While your feet is stomping

Pussy niggas better keep running

G-Lock and you know it keep dumping

Ghost gun, It might jam but I'm taking that risk

I'm a hop that car with my gun or fist

I'm a send him a message, Why the fuck would I diss

If he thinking shit sweet, Check his name off the list

If he using his feet then he better keep running

If I'm using my feet then you know I keep stomping

Bout to fuck up this beat cause you know this shit bumping

Bitch I started with nothing, I turned it to something

It get hot in the kitchen, you know that I'm cooking

If I get me a check, Take a trip out to Brooklyn

If he flexing a bag then you know it get took

Nigga fast on his feet, Man you know he be booking

I get caught in that jam and you know I'm a hit it

12 hopped on my line, Bitch you know that I kicked it

If I get me a bag then you know I'm a flip it

If I get me a stick then you know I'm a dip it

Ahhh, Nahh Forreal

Look and Hear, The crowd is jumping

Pump it up

Run it up

One him up

You know he fucked

Throw the right and the left like a nigga name Rocky

Still tight with my stick, Walking round with the glocky

Said I can't go to where, Who the fuck finna stop me

Dirtyy Quig too official, How the fuck can you copy

If he copy and paste then you know he get cut

And that nigga he pussy, You know he get fucked

If I up with this bitch, Better run, Better duck

If he ducked all them shots then you know that shit luck

Pump up the jam (Pump it up, Pump it up)

While your feet is stomping

Pussy nigga better keep running

G-Lock and you know it keep dumping

If he running then he better not stop

All these bird ass niggas, Man you know they going flock

If bruh ready to roll then you know I'm a rock

And I'm loving that sound when the glock pop his top

Ghost gun it jammed, jammed, jammed

Gotta nigga like damn, damn, damn,

So I chop him like lamb, lamb, lamb (Nahh Forreal he get cut up like a lamb chop)

Trey five seven fill him up with some holes

Put that heat on his ass, Leave a fuck nigga cold

If he typing in italics then we spinning in bold

I got caught in that jam, Swear to God I ain't fold

Bitch I'm going for the win, Bitch I'm going for the score

If she say she going leave then bitch there go the door

Put my y's to the sky, Put my two's to the floor

Fuck with me and my bro, Swear that bitch, She a whore

Tell a nigga don't run, Tell a nigga don't trip

I ain't running from shit, You can suck my dick

Shooting more than some clips

If you play, You get ripped

Up this bitch from my hip, Taylor Port I'm a sip (Uh)

Pump up the jam, So I know that you feel

Got the cards in my hand, So you know I'm a deal it

When I hop on the beat, Bitch you know I'm a kill it

Bitch, Waddup

Pump it up a lil bit more

Gotta five and it come after four

Make a right when you get to the store

Make a left when you get to that light

And they say I'm living wrong but you know I'm moving right

Gotta big ass gun and it came with a sight

Bitch you flexing them guns but I know you ain't tight

Just cause you gotta stick, Don't mean you going shoot

If I hop out the car, Bitch you know I'm a oot

Put his hands in the air, Make him give up the loot

If you say it's a problem, Let's get to the root

If I pop out that cut, I'm trying get that nigga

Clip that nigga, Forty going flip that nigga, Whip that nigga

In a box we going ship that nigga, Rip that nigga (Nahh Forreal I'm telling you)

Uh, Uh Day by Day

Uh, Uh Day by Day

Uh, Uh Day by Day

Uh, Uh Day by Day