It Ain't My Fault

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Hit-Boy

Chauncey Hollis, Jr. (born May 21, 1987), better known by his stage name Hit-Boy, is an American record producer, rapper, and songwriter from Fontana, California. In May 2011, Hollis had signed a deal with Kanye West's GOOD Music production wing, known as Very G.O.O.D. Beats and left the label after his contract expired in June 2013. In December 2012, it was revealed he had signed a recording contract with Interscope Records, and subsequently founded his own record label imprint, Hits Since '87. He is perhaps best known for his production catalog, which includes "Niggas in Paris" by Jay-Z and Kanye West, "Drop the World" by Lil Wayne and Eminem, and the GOOD Music single "Clique", all of which have been certified platinum or higher by the Recording Industry A… more »

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Yeah
Silly-ass, f*ck out my mouth, smackin' up
Yeah (Hit-Boy)

It ain't my fault I got that glow and I can't get it off me
It ain't my fault these niggas ain't solid and they movin' faulty
It ain't my fault I'm rockin' Ricky, keep that blicky on me
It ain't my fault when I pop out nothin' less than fifty on me

It ain't my fault that they got shifty on me
Tony Hawk, I'm used to niggas gettin' tricky on me
Party Pack, told her take that, and went Diddy on her
Trackhawk, I hit the pedal, three-sixty on 'em
Ain't my fault my back got the whole city on it
Ain't my fault my back got the whole city on 

Keep the thriller close, I'm protectin' my energy
My advice to you, don't become my enemy
Groupies grab me at my shows, so I know that they feelin' me
I just left 'em in her throat, girl, you know ain't no kids in me
Yeah, in the trenches rockin' Sean Bape, your shawty wild (for real)
I was quick to slime her like DeAndre

It ain't my fault you got your shit snatched
It ain't my fault you ain't have the money to go get your shit back
It ain't my fault I drew the blueprint, now I'm livin' that
Naomi Osaka's arena, we servin' and playin' with big racks
Got the baddest face down, ass up
Since I got my tax up, the most you ever made in your life
I done made, forgot about, had it stashed up
Simple niggas simpin' over bitches I done passed up

Real niggas goin' out of style, feel like the last one
I got my bag up, ain't sit around when I ain't have much
I f*ck on your ho, hop out the bed and turn my swag on
Ain't no more humble shit, I'm poppin' shit I'm poppin' tags on 'em, nigga

It ain't my fault I got that glow and I can't get it off me
It ain't my fault these niggas ain't solid and they movin' faulty
It ain't my fault I'm rockin' Ricky, keep that blicky on me
It ain't my fault when I pop out nothin' less than fifty on me

(Hit-Boy on the beat, so, bitch, you gotta go berserk)

Got expensive taste, still a hood nigga
Pints in the cabinet, lights, camera, action
I'ma keep a cup full when them cameras flashin'
Give my niggas hope, I feel like a pastor
Wanna live like me, you might have to chance it
No I don't need no tip, boy, my diamonds dancin'
Brodie told me 'bout you bitch, quit actin' classy
Yeah, I heard about you
Know you heard about us
All my lil' niggas shoot, feel like Curry father (pew)
If I want it then I get it, Timmy Turner problems

Cameras on me like I'm walkin' out the trial
I'm up thirty fuckin' million, she gon' want the child
Tax bracket out of reach, I ain't reachin' out
NBA-type NDAs, ain't shit ain't leakin' out
Rememberin' all the love you bitch-ass niggas never showed
And the heart on one below
And you niggas came up out the mud and didn't even grow
Tunnel vision, carpal tunnel niggas politicin'
What the f*ck you runnin' for?
Whip came with a ticket, valet keys
She gon' chief in LA breeze
I'm with Babyface, I feel like L.A. Reid

I'm with Sean Don, no Dom Perignon, bitch, it's lean
Push to start, foreign hit it, that bitch fart, what's a key?
They keep tellin' me to keep this shit a hunnid, I'm a G
From the Dirty Glove, gotta keep it on you in the streets
What more can I say?
Promise you I'm lyin' if I sign a NDA
Keep them squares out your circle, so we flick 'em through the day
Trust me, old friends hatin' on a nigga, bitches love me
Hands on, dirty in the field like it's rugby
Gang ties, mafioso like I'm Lucky Luciano
Pints comin' in from Philly, so I rock Milano

Americano, M's stack on top of M's, shit look like McDonald's
I don't need a Karen care, I need Griselda Blanco
All my niggas on they John Wick and leave you John Doe

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