HIM (feat. Runway Richy)
See that look in his eyes man
Haha
Runway, thouxan, Figueroa, bands, Chris Clizzy
For sure, respect, peace, tech
Hoe I'm him, don't ever gotta worry 'bout them
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout, uh
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout him
Broke peon, that shit underneath my Tim's (underneath my feet)
'Dis why I'm hot, real hot boy like I'm him
Thot's in my spot, my momma think I'm pimpin'
Trappin' out my spot, neighbours keep on trippin'
Parked the car up in the kitchen how I'm whippin' (yeah)
Plugged in the socket ain't sinked a dollar but they still ship
Walked in the spot with 50 bands they think it's Christmas
Living lavish, niggas don't even blemish
Talking 'bout static, hell nah can't dismiss it
Shit look tragic, your partner how we hit him
Shit these niggas doing for clout got wack tryna fit in
It's Runway Richy, choppa hold .250s
With me for the glizzy on your neck look like a hickey
I got folders that got twin's they got extra clothes be with me
I got Muslim bloods and GDG them crews be fucking with me
Had to tax him, finessed him out his benji's
Real outlaw lil baby you know I cause infringement
Bit of endightment for that shit can't be pretending
Y'all best friend a rat, he pointed his finger towards the bitches
Ay these niggas rat's, mouse's blood on niggas trippin'
Ain't tryna do no business with ya nigga keep your distance
These niggas killing 'bout these bitches swear they keep it pimpin'
I'm out in Cali', Bali, nigga, smoking Scotty Pippen
Shoutout Chris Clizzy, your nigga pulling up stay busy
We in Atlanta spread my wings the hawk 'coz the falcons with me
Had to dish that hoe because she sloppy and she way too tipsy
She know I'm him, Kurt Jackson we ain't shooting 50's
She know I'm him, I'm bright as hell I'm never dim
She know we him, outside like we run the city
She know I'm him, I'm simple but can't be no simp
They knew we them, these .223's gon' leave them limp
Hoe I'm him, don't ever gotta worry 'bout them
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout, uh
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout him
Broke peon, that shit underneath my Tim's (underneath my feet)
'Dis why I'm hot, real hot boy like I'm him
Thot's in my spot, my momma think I'm pimpin'
Trappin' out my spot, neighbours keep on trippin'
Parked the car up in the kitchen how I'm whippin' (yeah)
Plugged in the socket ain't sinked a dollar but they still ship
Walked in the spot with 50 bands they think it's Christmas
Haha
Runway, thouxan, Figueroa, bands, Chris Clizzy
For sure, respect, peace, tech
Hoe I'm him, don't ever gotta worry 'bout them
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout, uh
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout him
Broke peon, that shit underneath my Tim's (underneath my feet)
'Dis why I'm hot, real hot boy like I'm him
Thot's in my spot, my momma think I'm pimpin'
Trappin' out my spot, neighbours keep on trippin'
Parked the car up in the kitchen how I'm whippin' (yeah)
Plugged in the socket ain't sinked a dollar but they still ship
Walked in the spot with 50 bands they think it's Christmas
Living lavish, niggas don't even blemish
Talking 'bout static, hell nah can't dismiss it
Shit look tragic, your partner how we hit him
Shit these niggas doing for clout got wack tryna fit in
It's Runway Richy, choppa hold .250s
With me for the glizzy on your neck look like a hickey
I got folders that got twin's they got extra clothes be with me
I got Muslim bloods and GDG them crews be fucking with me
Had to tax him, finessed him out his benji's
Real outlaw lil baby you know I cause infringement
Bit of endightment for that shit can't be pretending
Y'all best friend a rat, he pointed his finger towards the bitches
Ay these niggas rat's, mouse's blood on niggas trippin'
Ain't tryna do no business with ya nigga keep your distance
These niggas killing 'bout these bitches swear they keep it pimpin'
I'm out in Cali', Bali, nigga, smoking Scotty Pippen
Shoutout Chris Clizzy, your nigga pulling up stay busy
We in Atlanta spread my wings the hawk 'coz the falcons with me
Had to dish that hoe because she sloppy and she way too tipsy
She know I'm him, Kurt Jackson we ain't shooting 50's
She know I'm him, I'm bright as hell I'm never dim
She know we him, outside like we run the city
She know I'm him, I'm simple but can't be no simp
They knew we them, these .223's gon' leave them limp
Hoe I'm him, don't ever gotta worry 'bout them
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout, uh
Hoe I'm him, don't ever be worried 'bout him
Broke peon, that shit underneath my Tim's (underneath my feet)
'Dis why I'm hot, real hot boy like I'm him
Thot's in my spot, my momma think I'm pimpin'
Trappin' out my spot, neighbours keep on trippin'
Parked the car up in the kitchen how I'm whippin' (yeah)
Plugged in the socket ain't sinked a dollar but they still ship
Walked in the spot with 50 bands they think it's Christmas
Credits
Writer(s): Taajwar Latimore, Christopher Clay
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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