I Ain't Mad at You - Quilly, Jay Marie

I ain’t mad at you, no

I ain’t mad at you, no

Why you mad at me?

Why you mat at me?

I keep droppin' back to back cuz the fans want me

I rap and trap, I just want my bands husky

I ran off on the plug, now he can’t trust me

I gotta line on the loud, crackers can’t hush me

I got my hands on that white boy;

Sandusky

I’m too legit to quit, haters can’t touch me

My raps coming like Revelations, you can’t rush me

Own a 100% of my publishing, you can’t fuck me

Fuck it, my feature price out your budget

My flows mean, I mix it clean wit (?)

I got so many beans in my jeans, I can’t tuck it

I can eat Felipe’s for weeks, nigga it’s nothin'

Medallion cut steak, Lobster cake wit the stuffing

Chicken sauteed, she keep askin' me for Nuggets

I should of left your ass in the hood and let you struggle

My youngin' on them Footballs, waiten for you to fumble

Quilly been wavy, them bitches follow the puddle

My 50s fell in love wit the 100s, I let em cuddle

I’ll rob my pop before I see my mom struggle

I seen a bird fly, I seen a 9 bubble

2 Ninas rockin' your boat, they’re not Aaliyah

My lil cousin (?) wit the shit like Diarrhea

White Jag, Black insides;

Jungle Fever

Shots leave you Holy like Yeezy season;

no Adidas

Compact 40, 30 in this big pound

Poppin' like Chris Brown, then I split;

James Brown

Quarter brick, I’ma need a 1,000 baggies

You’ll be lifted like a Uber and be higher than a Taxi

Niggas' hatin on me?

I ain’t mad at you

When them shots Kriss-Koss, you’ll be ass backwards

Haha, I just left at you

I saw my ex lookin' stressed, threw some cash at her

I ain’t mad at you, no

I ain’t mad at you, no

Why you mad at me?

Why you mad at me?

My mom was on crack, my pop was on coke

My uncle on dope, my auntie still smoke

My grandma died, that’s when the family lost hope

I dropped out of school, I had white like the Pope

White man can’t jump, black man won’t vote

I got a whore pregant, and aborted like nope

She brush her teeth with my dick

And gargle nut like scope, I’m bout to floss on these hoes

I had my brother’s jeans on

I had my cousin’s sneaks on

Them light skin bad bitches used to tell me «dream on»

I was just about to stop, somethin' told me «keep goin»

I was bummy;

basquiat, somethin' told me «keep drawning'

I got them junkies cliff hangin'

Got them smokers rock climbin'

Put pressure on these niggas', buss out wit a diamond

(?) goofy like Skreech, that’s perfect timing

I hit her from the back, she singin' like Frankie Lymon

You cross the line, stay there, niggas' bought that

I’m sippin' Hi-Tech, throwin' chalk back

You ain’t got the answers like Sway, but I’m Iverson

Quilly got that straight drop flow

You niggas' Vitaplan

The coke got them smokers slim like they dieting

I’m from the mud, I came out clean like (?)

Dam, they still mad at me

I saw my man lookin' off;

threw some cash at em

I ain’t mad at you

Why you mad at me, me me?

Why you mad at me?

I ain’t mad at you