Stand Up Guy
This tape finna be so hard (Reuel, stop playing with these niggas)
Ayy, ayy (Lil' bitch ask did I cheat)
Y'all here?
Here we go again
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
Lil' bitch ask was I cheating, threw my hands up
Stripper said I wasn't big lit, threw some bands up
Rifle with the legs on it, I can't shoot it stant up
.223, I'll send this bitch through yo mans' buffs
Ayy, I'm acting bad
Senior year I was rocking Fendi, fuck them bad grades
Big fire, put it on 'em like an ashtray
Ain't got no checks to drop, it's a Apple jack day
New toy on the West, it's yo heartbeat
Foreign key fire, this lil' bitch don't got a car key
Walk into the store, bitch, I'm Mister Make The Card Beep
Had to take the Off-Wheezy off 'cause the car's heat
In the deep, big splash, this the shark tank
I'ma swipe once 'cause the card blank
Crashed off the Wock', let me make sure the car straight
I ain't say shit, she just sent like, alright, thanks
It's hard to think about the bullshit I been through
I'll slam you with this lil' bitch like jiu-jitsu
I'll up top, brother man, boy get sent to
Jack Man, Scam Man, this shit you ain't hip to
Please don't piss my brothers off, they gripping pistols
David versus Goliath, we'll hit him in his temple
I'm big shitty, big shitty, I got credentials
Three man, weaved a lil' bitch, I'm in the middle
This some Skittles, za flyer than a blimp
Orca whale type shit, I ain't riding with no shrimp
Steak and chicken though? Hell yeah, I like it with some shrimp
I got the sliders with the chips
'Miri thigh pads, on my fucking 49ers shit
I pull my dick out, it's that time, ain't got time to kiss
I don't really rap, just a shit talker rhyme on shit
I don't smoke tails but this bitch got 'bout five more hits
Hunnid feet down, you in the shallows, boy, I heard you scrumbling
Function five hunnid deep now 'cause they heard we coming
Wavy than a bitch, no kizzy, I might surf on something
The forty yard dash too flat, burn a turf or something
Pull that light dub out and do my flexy dance
Fucking twin sis, best friends, I'm the Messy Man
You gon' hear some thuds through this bitch, how we stepping, man
7.62s crush his top like a Pepsi can
Wockhardt, iced tea, dirty Arnold Palmer
Big heat, fifteen, bitch, I'm Mario Chalmers
Look in the Bible, I'm the one that damn near started water
Lil' bitch got some good credit, I snuck the card up off her
Sneaky Man, with my grimy-ass
It's always "slatt" this, "slatt" that, with her slimy-ass
Lil' bitch got bougie head but I like to grab
This some icy-ass buffs, brought 'em like a snack
Missile hit him in his chest, stop fighting back
Russian K with the, we'll fight Iraq
Yeah, alright, Lamar Jack, heard you like to fight the sack
Smoking Apple Pie, lil' bitch, I like the thrax
I got a weapon, it's in arm's reach
Lamb' truck, yeah, bitch, I had to park sweet
I'm the leading scorer now, coach ain't gotta start me
Do I got a heart? Oh, a heart? Shit, bitch, hardly
I'm starting to think I'm chosen, for real
Shit, that's what people saying
Hellcat with the bicep in it, I got some demons waiting
Track.2s lights with them, wore for three occasions
Rock Off-White, my pop's black so don't think I'm racist
She gave me dome like Ford Field
"Tron, how the fuck you do that?", pussy, I was born real
Picked the bitch up out the trenches, this how foreigns feel
Last week sent an opp up, he in orbit still
Boy, he's outta there
I see the cops then I'm outta there
I get the head then I, boy, I'm outta there
I hit the Runtz, now I'm outta air
Ooh, shit, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz, ayy
Ayy, ayy (Lil' bitch ask did I cheat)
Y'all here?
Here we go again
Ayy, ShittyBoyz
Lil' bitch ask was I cheating, threw my hands up
Stripper said I wasn't big lit, threw some bands up
Rifle with the legs on it, I can't shoot it stant up
.223, I'll send this bitch through yo mans' buffs
Ayy, I'm acting bad
Senior year I was rocking Fendi, fuck them bad grades
Big fire, put it on 'em like an ashtray
Ain't got no checks to drop, it's a Apple jack day
New toy on the West, it's yo heartbeat
Foreign key fire, this lil' bitch don't got a car key
Walk into the store, bitch, I'm Mister Make The Card Beep
Had to take the Off-Wheezy off 'cause the car's heat
In the deep, big splash, this the shark tank
I'ma swipe once 'cause the card blank
Crashed off the Wock', let me make sure the car straight
I ain't say shit, she just sent like, alright, thanks
It's hard to think about the bullshit I been through
I'll slam you with this lil' bitch like jiu-jitsu
I'll up top, brother man, boy get sent to
Jack Man, Scam Man, this shit you ain't hip to
Please don't piss my brothers off, they gripping pistols
David versus Goliath, we'll hit him in his temple
I'm big shitty, big shitty, I got credentials
Three man, weaved a lil' bitch, I'm in the middle
This some Skittles, za flyer than a blimp
Orca whale type shit, I ain't riding with no shrimp
Steak and chicken though? Hell yeah, I like it with some shrimp
I got the sliders with the chips
'Miri thigh pads, on my fucking 49ers shit
I pull my dick out, it's that time, ain't got time to kiss
I don't really rap, just a shit talker rhyme on shit
I don't smoke tails but this bitch got 'bout five more hits
Hunnid feet down, you in the shallows, boy, I heard you scrumbling
Function five hunnid deep now 'cause they heard we coming
Wavy than a bitch, no kizzy, I might surf on something
The forty yard dash too flat, burn a turf or something
Pull that light dub out and do my flexy dance
Fucking twin sis, best friends, I'm the Messy Man
You gon' hear some thuds through this bitch, how we stepping, man
7.62s crush his top like a Pepsi can
Wockhardt, iced tea, dirty Arnold Palmer
Big heat, fifteen, bitch, I'm Mario Chalmers
Look in the Bible, I'm the one that damn near started water
Lil' bitch got some good credit, I snuck the card up off her
Sneaky Man, with my grimy-ass
It's always "slatt" this, "slatt" that, with her slimy-ass
Lil' bitch got bougie head but I like to grab
This some icy-ass buffs, brought 'em like a snack
Missile hit him in his chest, stop fighting back
Russian K with the, we'll fight Iraq
Yeah, alright, Lamar Jack, heard you like to fight the sack
Smoking Apple Pie, lil' bitch, I like the thrax
I got a weapon, it's in arm's reach
Lamb' truck, yeah, bitch, I had to park sweet
I'm the leading scorer now, coach ain't gotta start me
Do I got a heart? Oh, a heart? Shit, bitch, hardly
I'm starting to think I'm chosen, for real
Shit, that's what people saying
Hellcat with the bicep in it, I got some demons waiting
Track.2s lights with them, wore for three occasions
Rock Off-White, my pop's black so don't think I'm racist
She gave me dome like Ford Field
"Tron, how the fuck you do that?", pussy, I was born real
Picked the bitch up out the trenches, this how foreigns feel
Last week sent an opp up, he in orbit still
Boy, he's outta there
I see the cops then I'm outta there
I get the head then I, boy, I'm outta there
I hit the Runtz, now I'm outta air
Ooh, shit, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz, ayy
Credits
Writer(s): Reuel Walker, James Iv
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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