Letras
(Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
Yeah, like I'm Clint Capela
I'll slam on yo, like I'm, huh
I'll slam on yo bitch like I'm Clint Capela
Clingy with the Glock, yeah, I'll take that bitch wherever
I ain't cuffing, you ain't Cinderella
Let a bitch pick whatever then she put this dick together
Mister Punch God in this bitch, ain't shit to switch the weather
I got a CPN with the, I could get whips forever
Feel like Pootie Tang, B.B. Simon, bitch, I whip whoever
I hope yo granny far from the crib, this bitch'll hit whoever
Politicking in some BAPE, I know y'all sick y'all shrimp together
Keep the chop but I got the cutter, I'll switch to Zelda
Lil' bro like Machu with the hits, he'll split yo weave
Gang and 'em some dogs, if I tell 'em, they'll sick yo kid
These exquisite-ass lamb chops, I ain't get no ribs
Ain't no .233, this five-seven out the big FN
Three stripe life, jogging pants off the 700s
Fuck a nine-to-five, made ten by like seven-something
Running off on gang? Yeah, okay, he know Heaven coming
My Caucasian shooting, yeah, I think he JJ Redick cousin
I need a hunnid cards to touchdown expeditiously
We'll have his shit rocking and paint him like Xzibit team
Even the lil' me'll shit on you like literally
You ain't ShittyBoyz if you ain't memorize them BINs with me
Looking in the mirror like, "Shit, he look like him to me"
We'll flip the whole party 'round y'all like a gymnast team
High as hell, head spinning, Stan had to pick the beat
Dynamic duo like every time he trip, I tweak
Hi-Tech in the deja blue turned the water red
How you think you finna fuck my bitch on a water bed?
Threw a prosthetic in the chop, it got a arm and leg
Niggas swear the sauce burnt out but it's far from dead
Spark his head, if it's up, hit him up top
I can talk shit, dog shit, 'cause I touch guap
Whether it's hibachi or the block, we can up chop
Yeah, and I'm yelling ShittyBoyz till my lungs stop
I don't see a muscle when I flex but I still act cocky