AB-SOUL No Pressure

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Welcome to musicforlittlelearners Lyrics AB-SOUL No Pressure Lyrics, singer by AB-SOUL

Blue Chucks with my Locs on
Hoping that the blood homies don’t take it wrong
And wipe me off the face of this earth
And for the record, I am not banging the turf
I ain’t got no record, I ain’t never laid a nigga to dirt
And other than a nine to five I never had no work
But that don’t mean shit, I could still get murked
Any given Sunday, in front of a church, chuch
Tabernacle, chapel, if I ain’t on the block I’m somewhere behind an apple
Bottom model blotto, poppin’ Old English like senior citizens speaking
And me and legend blowing big kush
In a little coupe the same size big foot’s foot,
And now niggas looking up to me
And I ain’t even tall, It’s hard to be.

Under the pressures off
I said the pressures off
I said the pressures off
I said the pressures off

See, The Pressure ret everywhere were
And if it bust a pipe, it can take your life
Right before your eyes, and your homie’s too
You had to run it cause the color of your tennis shoes
And I hope you got a spare pair
And a fresh pack of newports to calm your nerves,
Roll up the herb, that’s my first name
And I get high until I die, that’s on my Daddy’s grave
You niggas wearin’ a mask
Trying to masquerade away from the facts, of your past
In past tense I pass this like classes, a took a Curtis magnet
I remember one time, one of the homies had a black burner in a black jacket
Shit, who predicted he’d get hit before twenty one
Black Jacket is, trying to count your cards quicker than us
I’m air tight never flinch when the

Under the pressures off
I said the pressures off
I said the pressures off
I said the pressures off

[Jay Rock:]
When the pressure was on
Niggas talk loud but they break wild, when the weapons are drawn
I should hit ten in his dome, cause he a snitch he don’t represent this gangster shit
Shit, he don’t know it feel to see your homie’s cap peeled by the black steel, for real
I can still see the blood spill its ill its ugly nasty
Uh, still keep the cannon in the back seat
What, puffin’ the blunt, fully trucked
For any nigga that wanna lay in the dust in the ford trucks
Trust, I ain’t with the B.S., I’m out the E.S.,
With a bad bitch
Pro Club 1x tall, no V-neck
Show me where the cheese at, I ain’t talkin’ Cheese-Its
Use to serve rocks out the block, Al Paci-ess
Now I crush mics on the song
Life’s a gamble plus a nigga never fold when the

Under the pressures off
I said the pressures off
I said the pressures off
I said the pressures off

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