album cover
Himothy
Hip-Hop/Rap
Himothy was released on April 30, 2026 by iStayBizzy Music as a part of the album Himothy - Single
album cover
Release DateApril 30, 2026
LabeliStayBizzy Music
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM78

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
L-Biz
L-Biz
Performer
Big Bata
Big Bata
Performer
Glen Cove
Glen Cove
Performer
Donald Ray Foreman Jr
Donald Ray Foreman Jr
Background Vocals
Sabata Ferguson
Sabata Ferguson
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Glen Cove
Glen Cove
Beat Maker
Donald Ray Foreman Jr
Donald Ray Foreman Jr
Lyrics
Sabata Ferguson
Sabata Ferguson
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Glen Cove
Glen Cove
Sound Design
Donald Ray Foreman Jr
Donald Ray Foreman Jr
Mixing Engineer
Sabata Ferguson
Sabata Ferguson
Producer
Bigga
Bigga
Graphic Design

Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Chasing chicken like I own a Popeye's
You ain't talkin' money homie I ain't got time
Yo lady on my line, she tryna drop by
You wanna know why, buddy you ain't that guy
But I'm him
Him Duncan
I'm him
Him Hardaway yay
I'm him
Him Duncan
Baby I'm him
Him Hardaway yay
You already know what I'm on when the clock strikes
Chasing chicken like two pigeons in a cock fight
Whip the yola with the soda till it rock righ
Fiends in a line cause they know my shit is top flight
Ain't talkin' powder but it's potent when I'm penning these lines
Plus the feds tap lines, they be giving mean time
In the meantime, spending free time making plays
Gettin' paid, staking pringles cause these women want lays
Nowadays they be stranded
Schemin' underhanded
But with me they keep it candid
Still I leave'em wet bandit
Bizzy grinding for my meals till I come up on a mill
I'm a star of the show, you ain't even on the bill mane
Chill mane, take a pill mane
Get yo mind right
Plenty **** died over limelight and females
So never write a check that yo ass can't cash
Cause you can't take it back
This ain't retail we still
Chasing chicken like I own a Popeye's
You ain't talkin' money homie I ain't got time
Yo lady on my line, she tryna drop by
You wanna know why, buddy you ain't that guy
But I'm him
Him Duncan
I'm him
Him Hardaway yay
I'm him
Him Duncan
Baby I'm him
Him Hardaway yay
Don't act like you know me
When I was broke they just threw dirt on me
My circle got tighter
I cut you off like it was surgery
I'm just being honest
Deposit all that shit for ISB
I'm still on the rise
And they in the high-rises
Applauding from they seats
It gotta be him
If not they duplicated the truth get faded away
When they illustrate all that fake shit, telling lies
Show me the proof irrefutable, it ain't fuel like mine
This rap shit is just smoke and mirrors, blurred lines
Swerve on'em
I saw a hundred **** who tried to come up
But they ain't have the nerve so they stayed down
It's fucked up
They bitter, I can't consider myself to be just like'em
I know that they'll hear the difference like vitiligo did Michael
I could provide'em, I could score like a FICO
I'll fight for the title, I'm up all night just writing recitals
You live by it, you liable to die by it
Get recycled
They hype you up until the lights get cut off
But I'm gon shine
I'm Chasing chicken like I own a Popeye's
You ain't talkin' money homie I ain't got time
Yo lady on my line, she tryna drop by
You wanna know why, buddy you ain't that guy
But I'm him
Him Duncan
I'm him
Him Hardaway yay
I'm him
Him Duncan
Baby I'm him
Him Hardaway yay
Written by: Donald Ray Foreman Jr, Glen Cove, Sabata Ferguson
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