No Love Lyrics

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Fours up
Lambo' doors up
Kush what I roll up
Yeah, gas what I roll up
I put the game in a hold up
Talk to your partner, he rolled up
I'm from the trenches with no love
Ain't gettin' money, got no love
Born in the hood, ain't get no love
Fake niggas walk with they nose up
Yeah, we from the streets, no love
We from the trenches with no love
Had the hood back and got no love
[Verse 1: Trippie Redd]
Yeah, look at my wrist gettin' colder
Pourin' a motherf*ckin' four up
Trip, I can't wait 'til you blow up
Ayy, yeah, it could go down and I go up
It could go down, I'ma go up
Nigga talk down, I'ma go up
Uh, yeah, yeah, uh (GOONTEX)
I'm from the gang, I'm from the gang
You cannot hang, they ain't showin' no love
You are not gang, thеy ain't showin' no love
Love, love, lovе, love
Love, f*ck is some love? f*ck is some love?
They ain't on nothin'
Yeah, lovin' the cup
Yeah, lovin' the blunt
Yeah, I love me some Runtz
Yeah, you love to front
Yeah, I love the trips to the bank
I love the front of the bank
I love the front of my tank
I love the motherf*ckin' rank
I'm in the motherf*ckin' gang
They say I'm in-motherf*ckin'-sane
It is o-motherf*ckin'-kay, yeah
(Blow me away)
[Verse: K Suave]
Yeah, MP5 got range
Don't get hit in the face
Yeah, you are not gang, yeah (You are not gang) They ain't showin' no love
My crib like the bank
Yeah, she give me neck every day (I love you)
Countin' up racks while I'm pourin' up pain
I keep to myself, bitch, I stay out the way
My crib on an island, they catchin' a ferry to me
You get put on a shirt, no embarrasin' me
High as f*ck in a spaceship, my car got wings
I ran up a bag, how you mad at me?
Doin' the best that I can, they ain't proud of me
Ridin' with a fifty round, niggas plottin' on me
I'm on a whole 'nother level, I gotta stay focused
I don't take niggas serious, they always be trollin'
Put a couple lil' racks on your head
Put a couple lil' racks in her hand
I took off, I'm in south of France
I'm really rich, feelin' like Kankan
In a double R truck, it's a Cullinan
The doors goin' backwards, she tryna hop in
Money counter goin' off, I'm countin' up bands (It's your money, use it when you need it)

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Fours up
Lambo' doors up
Kush what I roll up
Yeah, gas what I roll up
I put the game in a hold up
Talk to your partner, he rolled up
I'm from the trenches with no love
Ain't gettin' money, got no love
Born in the hood, ain't get no love
Fake niggas walk with they nose up
Yeah, we from the streets, no love
We from the trenches with no love
Had the hood back and got no love

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