Lyrics

Shit, I ain't gon' say this the last level, but we getting there This the next level, next chapter, the New Testament, Bin Reaper 3 It ain't much more to say but, ShittyBoyz Sometimes, it ain't about the shine, it's the grind Sometimes, it ain't gon' be yo' time, wait in line Sometimes, it ain't about the shine, it's the grind Sometimes, it ain't gon' be yo' time, wait in line You might take a hundred Ls, but the dubs be the difference Pop a ten, I'm stuck as hell, whole time, I'm floatin' to the distance I remember someone askin' me, like "Tron, what make you different?" I replied, "Without I, you can't even spell commitment" Do you get it? Listen, I'm so fuckin' in the mix, bro can get it Hit it, whip it, mix it, flip a brick Double, double Luka Troncic, you'll end with six assists I can tell you right now, what you doin that it isn't it (shit) Brrt, brrt, brrt Bitch, you better not try to touch me, if you do shit gon' get ugly If you do, shit gon' get crazy, flood yo' block like that bitch Haiti Brrt (huh) You're not making this easy, Kyle (brrt, brrt) Bitch, you better not try to touch me, if you do, shit gon' get ugly If you do, shit gon' get crazy, flood yo' block like that bitch Haiti Maybach, 4MATIC, 580 (skrrt), took 250 in Mercedes (skrrt) Bitches be so silly dilly, thinkin' they can really play me Bitch, you better not try to touch me, if you do shit gon' get ugly If you do, shit gon' get crazy, flood yo' block like that bitch Haiti Maybach, 4MATIC, 580, took 250 in Mercedes Bitches be so silly, dilly, thinkin' they can really play me Mister Take-Yo'-Shit, lil' brodie seen more licks than envelopes Bust down on my wrist, I'm up in strips, you think I'm sellin' dope Thought he got Wockiki, I done hit it with some methadone (ha) Met the plug in a small town by Mexico You ain't ballin', you just talkin' like an analyst Scorin' like a pink diamond, cup full of amethyst You gotta spin, you gotta stack, you gotta balance it Shit, blue Mendel's receipt looking like a Santa's list Brrt, bitch playin' roles like she Meagan Good I was young as hell with the ups, felt like seventh woods (yeah) Walk through, get respected as a legend should Cuddy found a glitch, Cyber Monday, heavy pressin' juugs My white boy Tidus run routes like Wes Welker 308s hotter than some fish grease, they vest melters Ha, ha, ha (boom!) Fully in tornado mode, the opps gon' prolly need the best shelter When it comes to motion, I know every law like Isaac Newton Mansion with surveillance, if you try it, you gon' die intrudin' (boom) Where I'm from, it's the jungle with the lions groovin' Grades ain't reflect it, but I swear I was the brightest student Shit, look now (brr) I could pull up on my teachers, up a book now (brrt) Shit, my mama and my pops, they did a good job Shit, they create a GOAT Bust AP on the planes, I'm gon' play the Rollie On the same shit, like literally, I just ate some Coney I can't trust nobody, literally, they just play it phony Still scared of the kitchen heat, you the same jabroni Caught his duckin' ass out like, "Ain't it some pape' you owe me?" RJ always trippin', RJ always trippin' Shee, yeah, RJ this the one, okay Big tripper vibes, you know what the fuck goin' on, huh It's a glitch on this bitch, both hands on the stick She gon' spit while she twist, both hands on the dick Blow bands, make some, ain't no plans on the trip If you risked what I risked, you'd be the man in this bitch It's a glitch on this bitch, both hands on the stick She gon' spit while she twists, both hands on the dick Blow bands, make some, ain't no plans for the trip If you risked what I risked, you'd be the man in this bitch (brrt) Weed loud as fuck, I need a muzzle for the blunt (brrt) Wocky, wocky, wocky, I done doubled up my cup Why you trippin'? All that stumblin', now we done got the ups Touchdown, touchdown, you a fumble in the clutch (brrt) Moncler Bubble Goose Trench, I can't rock Makai Hundred up in Hutch, now my kid look like Häagen-Dazs (shit) I'm in the Warzone with two weapons, finna drop a squad Only time you ever leveled up is when you got on COD Caught him posted on the block and got his spirit archived Let them fuckers get me in that room, them lyrics aren't mine (nope) Mastercard, Mastercard, it's clear-the-cart-time Tesla S plaid, I don't steer, the car drive (skrrt) Built the hustle, one of one, just check my DNA (fuck) I'm in my Crocs, with pills and pints, I ain't no CNA (fuck) I got the style, AJ back in TNA On stage, crowd screamin' Tron I knew I'd see the day ShittyBoyz, DogShitMilitia, yeah
Writer(s): Rayshawn Gordan, James Iv, Kyle Perkins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out