S!Ht (Remix)
Talking 'bout you popping tags, nigga you ain't bought shit
Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit
All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit
Took niggas out the hood like I'm from there
So you know it's all good when I come there
I hear you talk about your city like you run that
And I brought my tour to your city, you my son there nigga
But I had to come through for the remix
On my haven't done a verse in 8 weeks shit
And if a nigga say my name, he the hot shit
But if I say the nigga name, he still the hot shit
Fucked up, lucky I don't feed into the gossip
Niggas act like they don't know, but they should know
Yeah, I just think it's funny how they dangling the bait
But I'm the one that's killing niggas on the hooks though
And niggas ain't got a grill, still ice grill hating
I know y'all already know Mike Will Made It
Just looking at the numbers, nigga, I feel amazing
I call Michael Jordan up and Mike will make it
I'm the young rap nigga with the 'Melo deal
You need to come to OVO for a better deal
Just know a million ain't shit once you get a mill
And niggas say it's all good, that's how you better feel
Nigga nah, fuck that, this year I'm talking big stuff
Rolling through the city like a young nigga bricked up
Fuck niggas gon' be fuck niggas
That's why we never give a fuck when a fuck nigga switched up
If money talk then your pockets ain't saying shit
I'm in the bathroom getting head from your bitch
And I ain't paying her shit
You want beef? You don't know who you playing with
I tell my pilot to land the jet
I'm hopping off, get 'em, we popping off
Give a click and you niggas dead where you standing at
I'm just a trippy nigga smoking on cabbage
Your money funny like Jim Carrey
I got bitches that's super bad like Halle
And we still keeping that white like Barry
I'm a rich nigga, still keep a pistol with me
Nigga you ain't fuckin' with a picture of me
I got all this cake and shooters with me
Just in case you pussy niggas try to get you a piece
What it is, my nigga? What it's hittin' for?
Where the car you were whippin' in the video?
Where is the ice at? Where is them pretty hoes?
You a fraud, real niggas already know
Broke ass niggas I can't stand them
I hit 'em with the cannon
I buying out the mall at random
Juicy J that nigga is fresh to death
Smoke till there is nothing left
Bail off and then I'm ghost in my Phantom
Talking bout a hunned bottles, nigga you ain't popped shit
All you talk nana clips, nigga you ain't shot shit
Spending money on these hoes, nigga you ain't fuck shit
Took niggas out the hood like I'm from there
So you know it's all good when I come there
I hear you talk about your city like you run that
And I brought my tour to your city, you my son there nigga
But I had to come through for the remix
On my haven't done a verse in 8 weeks shit
And if a nigga say my name, he the hot shit
But if I say the nigga name, he still the hot shit
Fucked up, lucky I don't feed into the gossip
Niggas act like they don't know, but they should know
Yeah, I just think it's funny how they dangling the bait
But I'm the one that's killing niggas on the hooks though
And niggas ain't got a grill, still ice grill hating
I know y'all already know Mike Will Made It
Just looking at the numbers, nigga, I feel amazing
I call Michael Jordan up and Mike will make it
I'm the young rap nigga with the 'Melo deal
You need to come to OVO for a better deal
Just know a million ain't shit once you get a mill
And niggas say it's all good, that's how you better feel
Nigga nah, fuck that, this year I'm talking big stuff
Rolling through the city like a young nigga bricked up
Fuck niggas gon' be fuck niggas
That's why we never give a fuck when a fuck nigga switched up
If money talk then your pockets ain't saying shit
I'm in the bathroom getting head from your bitch
And I ain't paying her shit
You want beef? You don't know who you playing with
I tell my pilot to land the jet
I'm hopping off, get 'em, we popping off
Give a click and you niggas dead where you standing at
I'm just a trippy nigga smoking on cabbage
Your money funny like Jim Carrey
I got bitches that's super bad like Halle
And we still keeping that white like Barry
I'm a rich nigga, still keep a pistol with me
Nigga you ain't fuckin' with a picture of me
I got all this cake and shooters with me
Just in case you pussy niggas try to get you a piece
What it is, my nigga? What it's hittin' for?
Where the car you were whippin' in the video?
Where is the ice at? Where is them pretty hoes?
You a fraud, real niggas already know
Broke ass niggas I can't stand them
I hit 'em with the cannon
I buying out the mall at random
Juicy J that nigga is fresh to death
Smoke till there is nothing left
Bail off and then I'm ghost in my Phantom
Credits
Writer(s): Michael Len Ii Williams, Nayvadius Demun Wilburn, Pierre Ramon Slaughter
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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