Fuh Nuc lyrics by Haiti Babii - original song full text. Official Fuh Nuc lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Haiti Babii – Fuh Nuc lyrics
[Verse 1]
Come and ride with a rich nigga
Suicide, hockey pucks when I slide with me stick, nigga
​i5 doing a hundred miles
Drive-bys and wise guys, you staring with a crooked eye
Bad bitch want me to stick around
Like a broom, she get swept off her feet after I dick her down
I am feeling myself
Hating on me, just kill yourself
But hold on, let me put my robe on
I rather tell the truth 'bout a bitch, quit lyin' like you rich
Niggas out here dyin' over that shit
These niggas out here busters, on mamas, put pussy over commas
Quit actin' like it's funny if you ain't gettin' money, bitch
Stop actin' like a freak if you ain't tryna trick
Niggas actin' like they him but they ain't really him
I got shot by the police, bitch, I'm really him

[Chorus]
Hah-hah, bitch, what's funny?
You broke and bummy, I gets my money
Bitch, miss me with the woo-wop, bring out the ooh-wop
Got me feeling like I'm 2Pac, I took a few shots
Glock-30 when I flu flamm, I had to blue-blam
Don't stop until it click-click, switch the whole clique
Lifestyle of a hood man, born in the hood-nood
Hundred P's, where the cookbook? Don't give a fu-nuck

[Verse 2]
Imagine this, your main bitch is my side ho
Imagine me giving that bitch back on the weekend
Fuck that, why would I bow down to a fuck nigga?
Trust niggas? Why the fuck would I do that?
Fuck you, see I can't trust my own self
North Side, that's where I'm from, I can't help
Bling, bling, got a nigga feelin' like he Elvis
Bitches wonder why a nigga selfish
Fuck you, see I can't trust my own self
North Side, that's where I'm from, I can't help
Bling, bling, got a nigga feelin' like he Elvis
Bitches wonder why a nigga selfish

[Chorus]
Hah-hah, bitch, what's funny?
You broke and bummy, I gets my money
Bitch, miss me with the woo-wop, bring out the ooh-wop
Got me feeling like I'm 2Pac, I took a few shots
Glock-30 when I flu flamm, I had to blue-blam
Don't stop until it click-click, switch the whole clique
Lifestyle of a hood man, born in the hood-nood
Hundred P's, where the cookbook? Don't give a fu-nuck
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