Use 2 - Problem, Bad Lucc

Can’t be fuckin' with these bitches like I used to

No they don’t make 'em like they used to

No they don’t make 'em like they used to

No they don’t make 'em like they used to

I can’t be fuckin' with you niggas like I used to

Cause no they don’t make 'em like they used to

No they don’t make 'em like they used to

No they don’t make 'em like they used to

They don’t make 'em like they used to, shit

That’s gon' take some gettin' used to, shit

I’m in the hood, on the backstreets

My old best friend tryna clap me

So I’m like fuck it, what the fuck a nigga gon' do?

I gotta get up before he give me but I love do

Hooh, it’s a fucked up feeling

Cock it back, get high, hit the muthafuckin' ceiling

Like playin' what these niggas betta get that

LA the land of the getback

Make sure the weed kush before I hit that

And if I ain’t got a condom I won’t hit that

Shit done changed from how a nigga used to be

My mind ain’t the same as it used to be

Shouldn’t wait for the truth to see

Got a little money ab baby right up in my boot to see

That’s why I

It ain’t the same, but I’m cool

I don’t fuck with niggas anyway

Stay to myself like a nigga who trust me

Who never did me wrong, who neva broke my heart

Who never pointed me out on the lick

These hoes quick to get me set up but with another chick

Fightin' to get it lit, the box have me callin' it quits

Ain’t that the pitch know Jason

See that’s how the game show

Yo

They don’t make 'em like they used to, shit

That’s gon' take some gettin' used to, shit

They hate it when a nigga crackin'

They’d rather meet me in the hood back-trappin'

I stay in my lane, can’t be worried bout these otha ones

Five years, prolly bout to have anotha one

Shit, plus a young nigga just got payed

So I’mma have to get anotha one

I’m seasoned for this, learned the game for many seasons

I’ve enlisted, a gift, a curse, the soul rehearse

So I neva make that mistake twice, throw the rice

I’m married to the concept of conquering

Bum ass hoes and fake bros crossin' the love-word

Cheer for the kid that they sent as love birth

On Instagram flexin' with a nigga like Love Birds

Please, let me loose, let me believe what I do

Let me believe you ain’t true

It’s easier to not fuck you, let’s keep it cordial

I won’t even record you I’m askin' myself what would the Lord do

Judas, well there you have it the cut-off is automatic