Trippie Redd
Uka Uka (Cover)
[Intro]
Yeah, Big 18 know what the fuck goin' on, yeah

[Verse 1]
Ooh, said I made y'all (said that I made)
So how could I be mad that I ain't y'all? (mad that I ain't)
Same reason why I hate y'all (I hate what I hate)
Hop up in this 'Rari then I race off, ayy (race off)
Do the dash in this racecar (racecar)
Got the Pistol Pete on me, is this a face off? ayy (face off)
Better say your damn grace dog (damn grace)
Blind in reality just like you're Ray Charles (Ray Charles)

[Chorus 1]
Ayy, I don't want no more pressure
No, I don't want no more pressure
No, I don't want no more pressure
Ahh, don't want no more pressure
Ahh, don't want no more pressure
Ahh, don't want no more pressure, ahh
[Verse 2]
Ayy, fuck your bitch and hit my fucking dab, oh
Ayy, choppers by my side, you know it clap, oh
Like your bitch ass, big bag
Big cash, and I tote a big gat
Aftermath, I'm just dressed in all black
Got the black mask
I'll pull it out the motherfucking black bag
Ooh, yeah, and drop your ass
Bang bang, lil n***a you left in the past
Ooh, ayy, son these n***as, I'm your dad
Big racks on my body, baby got this cash
Pray these goofy n***as really goin' out sad
Give these pussy n***as hell like I'm Johnny Gat, ooh

[Chorus 2]
Swear I want no pressure
No, swear I want no pressure
No, swear I want no pressure
No, swear I want no pressure
No, swear I want no pressure
No, swear I want no pressure
No, swear I want no pressure

[Verse 3]
Ooh, ayy, ooh, are you n***as really from the field?
Or are you n***as really from the hills?
I got a mob of n***as coming by the mills
They'll shoot your ass down boy from 1800 kills, for real
I'm tryna find your fuckin chill
I'm off this Actavis, I'm tryna pop a seal
I don't do Xannies baby, no, don't do no pills
I'm just smokin on dope, baby
Just thumbin' through the mills, so ill