Platforms X Trophies
Ayo
Its the motherf*ckin Move Makers
Smifhouse Records
Slime Po on the beat you heard
Uh
And we just here to let yall n*ggas know
That if y'all ain't been on no platforms
Or won no trophies
What the f*ck is you bragging for n*gga?
Uh
I'm here to establish the fact
I'm nasty with rap
And no we ain't friends
Why the f*ck you askin me that
Made what you make in a year, just for blasting a gat
When the bullet passed through his hat that was a salary cap
Look at your resume
Where the casualties at
Something to think about before you try battling Blak
Sh*t, I was trapping out the shadow with packs
Who not hotter?
Make his shit crack, my slaps get track with shot spotters
N*ggas try booking me, I charge em top dollar
They send me clothes I send it back if it's not Prada
It's clear that I'm here for the realest reasons
I'll spit on a n*gga daughter like Killa Season
WHOA
Grip the blower then a nigga breezing
You know I'm lower than midget knees is "n*gga please" is
All that they hear
When these peasants spit sports references and start talkin they gear
Wasn't they just, walking this year
N*ggas is ass
I beep and keep it moving you a thing of the past
I let em pick y'all get a sling or cast
Everytime I step out like my phone ringing in class
More lying bout what they bare than Ringling has
I really dont give a f*ck what u think of me F*g
I'm justified on how I ride to get to cash
Ain't none of these rappers whippin my ass
Yo, straight up
They was tryna argue when I was setting the bait up
Told me get my weight up I got it they got they hate up
Now I sit at they table and tell them give a plate up
& They ain't even cooking, send the butler or the maid up
Besides that, all of they writtens made up
It's Makin Moves you cant fade us
c*cksuckers
We came up in the mom and pops
Now we pop mothers
Cops and opps will never get the drop from us
We shut the city down the last 10 hot summers
Get love from block runners to the top gunners
Who's running your label who do you salute too
He'd probably try to sign us before he even choose you
We nitro coming off the turn about to lose you
Platforms and trophies that should tell you who's who
Copy my style that something that I'm used to
I f*ck a b*tch they run out and date her like Boost do
-SMIF
Its the motherf*ckin Move Makers
Smifhouse Records
Slime Po on the beat you heard
Uh
And we just here to let yall n*ggas know
That if y'all ain't been on no platforms
Or won no trophies
What the f*ck is you bragging for n*gga?
Uh
I'm here to establish the fact
I'm nasty with rap
And no we ain't friends
Why the f*ck you askin me that
Made what you make in a year, just for blasting a gat
When the bullet passed through his hat that was a salary cap
Look at your resume
Where the casualties at
Something to think about before you try battling Blak
Sh*t, I was trapping out the shadow with packs
Who not hotter?
Make his shit crack, my slaps get track with shot spotters
N*ggas try booking me, I charge em top dollar
They send me clothes I send it back if it's not Prada
It's clear that I'm here for the realest reasons
I'll spit on a n*gga daughter like Killa Season
WHOA
Grip the blower then a nigga breezing
You know I'm lower than midget knees is "n*gga please" is
All that they hear
When these peasants spit sports references and start talkin they gear
Wasn't they just, walking this year
N*ggas is ass
I beep and keep it moving you a thing of the past
I let em pick y'all get a sling or cast
Everytime I step out like my phone ringing in class
More lying bout what they bare than Ringling has
I really dont give a f*ck what u think of me F*g
I'm justified on how I ride to get to cash
Ain't none of these rappers whippin my ass
Yo, straight up
They was tryna argue when I was setting the bait up
Told me get my weight up I got it they got they hate up
Now I sit at they table and tell them give a plate up
& They ain't even cooking, send the butler or the maid up
Besides that, all of they writtens made up
It's Makin Moves you cant fade us
c*cksuckers
We came up in the mom and pops
Now we pop mothers
Cops and opps will never get the drop from us
We shut the city down the last 10 hot summers
Get love from block runners to the top gunners
Who's running your label who do you salute too
He'd probably try to sign us before he even choose you
We nitro coming off the turn about to lose you
Platforms and trophies that should tell you who's who
Copy my style that something that I'm used to
I f*ck a b*tch they run out and date her like Boost do
-SMIF
Credits
Writer(s): Johnathan Fournier, Edward Peyton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.