Lyrics
(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat)
(Shit, fuck, damn) Huh
Matte black 'Vette with interior red guts (Skrrt)
I just want the neck, baby, give your head up (Give me that)
Feed you to them pits if you get me fed up
Call the chop Jeffrey Dahmer, it'll eat your mans up
How the fuck I'm ballin', I ain't touch the court? (How?)
Pull up wavin' sticks around, feel like Dumbledore (Grrt)
As-salamu alaykum, tell them pigs I don't fuck with pork (At all)
Ain't no snitches in this whip but it's six nines (Six nines)
I be swimmin' with them sharks, don't get fish fried
She don't fuck with DSM? Boy, your bitch lied (Cappin')
I'll walk him down and leave him dead, bitch, I'm Rick Grimes
Hoes in the whip like I fight fire (Yep)
Hutch did the piece, bitch, my ice brighter (Bling)
Buffalos on, I don't like wires
All these hoes'll stab you in your back like they Mike Myers
It's funny, when you up, everybody down (For real)
But when you down, everybody up on you (They down)
Bet I lay you down if I get the ups on you
All that talkin' down, now it's funny how I'm up on you
Black-mirrored tints off the icy-white buffs (Bling)
Ninety-nine problems, don't give ninety-nine fucks (Nope)
Died in the streets, don't know why he signed up
He brought his bitch to the club, don't know why she eyein' us (Freak ass)
I knew I was sick or evil, or both, now I believe I was sick
The doctors have told me about my sickness, and now I have some peace
Huh (Alright, here we go)
Think I need some Theraflu because I'm sick of hoes
I don't care how much I make, I don't get sick of Pros (At all)
Run it up and find designer shit to spend it on (Designer)
We got straps inside this whip but we ain't buckled up
How we fly around with sticks, we look like Hufflepuff (Puff, puff)
If you see me with your bitch, I made her juggle nuts
I been in that field for real and I ain't fumble once, no cap
Had to tint the buffies 'cause my ice bright (It is)
Keep a Glocky on my waist, I ain't the fight type (I'm not)
Why he tryna cuff that bitch? She ain't the wife type (She literally a slut, bro)
Buffs on, 59Fifty to the back
Pass it off to bro 'cause he get jiggy with the strap (Yep)
Gotta stay alert 'cause it get iffy where I'm at
Burning rubber in the Kitty, we get litty in them 'Cats (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Called the chop a dyke 'cause it's some titties on the strap
We ain't selling drugs, it's only giffies in the trap (Giffies)
I just want the mouth, she tryna hit me with the Wap
Sayonara to the law, boy, they can't get me in the Track' (Skrrt)
Written by: StanWill
