L/Luh Tyler/Gettin' Fishy ft. SCY Jimm, Wizz Havinn
[Luh Tyler] Yeah, nigga Ayy, nigga, yeah Ayy, nigga, rrr (Vince, pull up to the stu', man)
[Luh Tyler] Runnin' them racks up, perfect timing Jump on the beat, get paid by rhyming Nigga, they creep, watch how they sliming Lil' goofy-ass nigga went broke on diamonds Nigga, when I step, my bros behind me Bro sip that drank, he turn to a zombie Just stack your paper, boy, just keep grindin' We gon' run the racks up, go see Johnny We gon' run the racks up, nigga, just sit back, stack, young nigga gon' get to the bag Brodie wake up, bust down in the trap, nigga, ain't no nap, gotta get off them bags I be runnin' laps on a nigga while you in the house on the couch, nigga, get off your ass Young nigga jumped in the booth, no pen, no pad, niggas know I'm finna gas Young nigga chasin' them blues like Nipsey Yeah, pop out, bitch, I'm sticky Bro make niggas run just like they Ricky (Frrt) Bro in the cut with that switchy This bitch got ass on her just like Nicki Lil' bitch give top, tell the ho, "Don't kiss me" Dump a bag on a Cuban, don't want no Richy These niggas be creep, man, shit gettin' fishy (Nigga, yeah)
[SCY Jimm] Ayy, freestyled this shit off the head Play with the gang, you dead Ayy, run up, send shots at your head Know you fuck niggas heard what I said I'm countin' pink and blue money, but somehow still seein' red Mmm, that boy went broke on a chain, 'fore I go broke, I'm goin' fed, nigga Ayy, beat the the pot These niggas flat, I keep a knot Keep that fire, these niggas plot Fuck nigga play, we lettin' off shots Mmm, I can't trust no thot Ice my wrist, they say I'm hot Ayy, cheese, we get a lot They know I'm him, he mad he not
[Wizz Havin] Ayy, I'm supposed to be in the stu', but I'm in here beatin' the pot Yeah, talkin' cheese, we get a lot Stackin' it, I let it rot (Nigga) Nigga be workin' with cops (Fuck) These hoes be fuckin' the opps (Damn) You broke and workin' the clock You don't even know how to serve no rocks, nigga Every day I wake up, nigga, I'm beatin' the block down (For sure) Country boy comin' from Georgia, he finna score like five pounds Nigga play up in this bitch, I up this fire, hit five rounds Free my nigga True, he finna jump, he in that countdown
[Luh Tyler] Take your bitch to pound town, we headed to the top, can't hit the ground These niggas be broke, they dumb, they clowns My niggas step out, drip water, don't drown Bro jump in the trap, he gettin' off pounds You ain't tryna get a bag, get your ass from 'round When you hear that, "Frrt," tell a bitch get down Lil' bitch, I'm the king, don't need no crown Nigga, yeah, ayy, get that money, look out for my brother, bitch Niggas, they know what it is Go get that bag, stand on that biz These niggas cap, they work at Lids I got your lil' bitch doin' tricks I'm chasin' that bag, don't chase no bitch Let's get in that mode, bitch, I'm finna glitchTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.