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Quando Rondo, NBA YoungBoy – No Mercy

Lyrics No Mercy – Quando Rondo, YoungBoy Never Broke Again

Stars in the ceilin’, s**t
I make a wish when I jump out the Cullinan
Someone grab the scissors
‘Cause I cut her off, once I hit, she can pass to my brother ‘nem
Different color vehicles, look just like some Skittles
With two-hundred-thou’ in a duffle bag
I hang with the killer that killed your lil’ n**ga
Y’all boys ain’t no killers, I’m on your ass

Pour up some Codeine, I’m sippin’ that
I’m goin’ cold cold turkey, money and Molly
It’s tucked in the Fendi pack
I don’t want no more percies
I send my youngin to shoot it up for a bag
I can’t show no more mercy
COVID-19, we gon’ step on ’em with a mask
I’m talkin’ closed, closed curtains

When you shoot, ain’t no runnin’, we dumpin’ back
Fifty shots in the drum when we up the mag’
Just to make sure we slump ’em, we gon’ double back
B**ch, I come from the slums, out the can, Savannah
My lil’ murdered one in the new Atlanta
So, they say on my head it’s a hundred racks
I even got smoke wit’ my own kind
If I tell ’em, yo’ chain get snatched

Who the f**k you been talkin’ to I’m just askin’
N**ga, y’all got my number, but makin’ captions
N**ga, since when these n**gas been oversteppin’
Boys up in the air, so I been givin’ passes
Paranoid everywhere, so, I keep a ratchet
Bet that cutter gon’ make ’em flip like a ..
I just buried a hundred inside of a casket
Treat my b**ch like a Barbie, just bought her plastic

If you don’t like me let me know, boy, you know that you a ho
Big check like Nike, that’s for sure
But, yeah, this pipe still in, for sure
Before this music s**t, I ain’t care ’bout money, I was shootin’ s**t
I don’t care ’bout who you is
Your dude a snitch, these n**gas know my crew legit

Pour up some Codeine, I’m sippin’ that
I’m goin’ cold cold turkey, money and Molly
It’s tucked in the Fendi pack
I don’t want no more Percies
I send my youngin to shoot it up for a bag
I can’t show no more mercy
COVID-19, we gon’ step on ’em with a mask
I’m talkin’ closed, closed curtains

Don’t do no kickin’, got to get it
I’m tryna get all of my n**gas from out of the trenches
I gave her racks for some game
I covered her up in Dior, but mostly, it’s Fendi
My b**ch be walkin’ ’round with a million
I took her wrist and I set Richard Mille
Look at the diamonds, her bracelet’s tennis
Told you to tell ’em it’s gon’ be a killin’
Really rich, f**k nemesis, I’m the villain
I spent your whole label deal on my Bentley
I tell it right how it is, killers they keepin’ it real
I’m returnin’ them with it
Already know how I’m is
One of them n**gas gon’ die when I come to the city

Four-door matte Jag’ with a sack, got the strap on his ass
N**ga play, let it clap, get back
Playin’ with the bag, out the flap, it’s a wrap
Let it bang at his cap ’til his a*s get smashed
From the hotel, we could pick up some b**ches
Turn off her phone, she don’t know where we at
Loaded, gone, tell her, Leave me ‘lone
I’m the one holdin’ them racks
I’m the one flooded with cash
But, once you get high with it, it’ll never come back

Written by Quando Rondo, YoungBoy Never Broke Again & Pooh Beatz
Album: 3860
Produced by Pooh Beatz
Quando Rondo | NBA YoungBoy | 2022

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Quando Rondo, NBA YoungBoy – No Mercy

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