Can’t Be Concrete Lyrics – Jorjiana

Read the full Can’t Be Concrete lyrics by Jorjiana along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Jorjiana’s music, you can also explore I’m The One and Talk, two other songs by Jorjiana.

[Intro: Jorjiana & Lil Yachty]
‘Crete
It’s us
I’m not the two
Stay out the mix, uh
Stay out the mix, uh
Oof Ooh
Uh, uh-huh
Pfft, uh-huh
Bah (Ayo, Eli, what the fu*k?)
Uh, uh-huh
[Verse 1]
I don’t want to be s*it like you b!tches
Step in the field, step the fu*k out my mentions
Swear to God, I ain’t never like broke-ass, old-ass, lame-ass, bird brain, miserable b!tches
Hoped in the b!tch, but my pockets is sixty
You old’ than a b!tch in the face, look fifty
Get your paper up, heard you owe half a milli’
Probably spent your advance on my new Rick Ricks
Fly you out twice a week, heard you can’t pay a ticket
Want to hate on a b!tch ’cause you can’t get near me
Swear to God I ain’t never like broke ass old ass lame ass bird brain miserable b!tches
Can’t name one KBOOO song, you suck
Can’t name one time I looked you up, can’t name one time I turned you on
You Perc’d out, your ass is laced
B!tches mad I took they place, b!tches can’t let a b!tch be great
I punch in on all my songs, you need a writer, take your b!tch ass home
Go get a job, your s*it ain’t streaming, look like Skilla Baby, kinda The Weeknd
Swear to God, I ain’t never like broke-ass, old-ass, lame-ass, bird brain, miserable b!tches

[Verse 2]
Uh, uh-huh
‘Bout that bag, I’ll send s*it home
Gen on me with a 30 shot bone
Long ass body, you look like a cone
Pick off a b!tch, I ain’t nothing like her

I’m from the trench, I don’t care what you heard
You can talk all you want but you can’t be richer
Pu*sy get fu*ked, how you get that picture?
Pu*sy (??), how you get that message?
I talk in real life, hell no I don’t send it
Turn my tape in so my new check pending
Turn it real life, I don’t got to finesse it
Your Maybach gone, see you Uber Lyfting
My car real fast, I’m on the ‘eeway drifting
Can’t hang with a scary-ass b!tch, be snitching
Can’t out-lame the b!tch, swear to god she different
Swear to God, I ain’t never like broke-ass, old-ass, lame-ass, bird brain, miserable b!tches, uh
(Swear to God, I ain’t never like broke-ass, old-ass, lame-ass, bird brain, miserable b!tches, uh)

[Verse 3]
I don’t too much talk to a pillow, I’d rather dog walk these b!tches
Hoes swear to god they hate me
In my follows, they some stalk me b!tches
Fu*k out my face, press the issue, pu*sy
Put your money where your mouth is, shut the fu*k up
Been said I hated you, b!tches won’t dap up
‘Fore I start treating you hoes like Precious, uh-huh
I can put a lil’ bread on your taco, don’t tempt me
Play the middle man, get turned into a victim
Ring round ring round, dizzy hoes dizzy
You been fell off trying to use my attention
And she’s still going to stream my s*it
Bop-ass b!tch do nothing but d!ck
Fu*k your life and fu*k your clique, b!tch, brrr
Oof Ooh

[Outro: Lil Yachty]
‘Crete
It’s us
I’m not the two
Stay out the mix, uh
Stay out the mix, uh
Stay out the mix, uh
Stay out the—
Which one you working?
All the pump faking ain’t doing no good, could tell that you’re real life hurting
Mmm, he said this pu*sy is OX Bar
But he gon’ send in the cop car, gun in my boot, I’m an outlaw
Mwah