penny pincher (remix) - dumar 1k lyrics
[intro: dumar 1k]
yeah, n*gga, uh
grrah, baow
[?], okay
(gentle beatz)
okay, uh, alright
[chorus: dumar 1k]
uh, i’m a real*lifer, b*tch i’m lit outside these instrumentals
baby, come f*ck with a boss, you so used to penny pinchers
if you spin with us, we ringing to your door like rent*a*center
mickey d’s, i got power plays for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
old n*gga, you just talk about your past
kenny smith, coming off the vert, my trap jumpin’, n*gga
dennis smith, i was worried bout a b*tch, that was b*tch again (the f*ck?)
my [?] throw hands for free, but i still just want the tip
[verse 1: dumar 1k]
straight blues, in my pocket, like a crip
i need a wheelchair, i’ve been in the trap so d*mn much, they think i live there
if you f*ckin’ up, and you in that b*tch house, pay the bills there
even if she got a n*gga, she got ass, i’ma still [?]
street n*gga, yeah, i got real figures, yeah
he moved out of town to dodge beef, we’ll still get him
he was huggin’ all on that b*tch while they in the club, he real tender
send [?] to do it, he get it done, he a real [?]
sack chasin’, sun up til’ sun down, this sh*t in my genes
hit her from the front, and turn around, made that lil’ b*tch scream
can’t believe the sh*t i’m doing now, this sh*t was in my dreams
you can’t find a n*gga that can show a dub, n*gga, that’s on my team
[verse 2: g herbo]
air time, they think this sh*t a joke, we get the last laugh
last [?], we heard smoke, and put that sh*t out that fast
hundred [?] split it up to 20s, via trash bags
[?], penny*pinchin’ ass, spent ya’ last cash
real hustler, when this sh*t get low, i don’t panic
i just need another 24, i’m a rubber*bandit
swervo, i walk in the door, b*tches get frantic
i can change your life, let me lay pipe, i’m a mechanic
i’ma f*ck twice, pull up late at night, and i vanish
b*tch freaky like janet, might go live like i’m shannon
runnin’ lights in mclarens, 2 seconds, i’m texting
here, [?] in intersections, cause my left wrist is chande*lier, ayy
[chorus: dumar 1k]
uh, i’m a real*lifer, b*tch i’m lit outside these instrumentals
baby, come f*ck with a boss, you so used to penny pinchers
if you spin with us, we ringing to your door like rent*a*center
mickey d’s, i got power plays for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
old n*gga, you just talk about your past
kenny smith, coming off the vert, my trap jumpin’, n*gga
dennis smith, i was worried bout a b*tch, that was b*tch again (the f*ck?)
my [?] throw hands for free, but i still just want the tip
[verse 4: blp kosher]
two chopsticks, make the tables turn
that’s a ‘saki bomb, poly pocket pistol in my pocket, thats a poly bomb
ball bearings in your gun, spit fire, f*ck a auto bomb
they let me hold the .9 as a jit, i was a c*cky [?]
i done kicked the door, now i’m signing right before closure
it ain’t out of luck, but now my pockets filled with four*leaf clovers
fake blood posing, need a donor
that boy an underground rat, and i don’t f*ck with gophers
i blew up my dog triplin, he got pms (pms)
i got a twinkle in my eye, might be vvs
and i got people on my side, they might be zmf
i might let this f*ckin’ k*pop, so please no bts
them boys [?], cracker shootin’ in the grass
they threw a penny at me, threw a h*rnady back at his ass
brodie told me grab the gat, and hit the road, and head to jackson
now i’m in dubai like i’m dumar, and i came back with a stack
[verse 5: luh tyler]
yeah, my favorite thing than chasin’ cheddar cheese (on god, yeah)
be tired of f*ckin’ with them lames, go f*ck with mr. skii (skii, yeah)
fifty blue benjamin’s, i keep them in my jeans (cha*ching)
bad b*tch don’t even go to church, she in here on her knees (ugh)
sh*t, i’m smoking on exotic, you ain’t as high as me (on god, yeah)
i done turned into a star, wasn’t even trying to be (what the f*ck?)
bring my n*ggas to the table, cause it’s time to eat (we eatin’ good, n*gga)
bust it open every time, that’s my kind of freak (ugh)
it ain’t ’bout no f*ckin’ payment, still got sh*t to say (shhh)
i feel like dumar, cause i keep this sh*t 1k (no cap, yeah)
on the road to riches, all my n*ggas on that paper chase (on god, yeah)
i’m a real*lifer, baby, all them n*ggas fake (facts, n*gga)
[chorus: dumar 1k]
uh, i’m a real*lifer, b*tch i’m lit outside these instrumentals
baby, come f*ck with a boss, you so used to penny pinchers
if you spin with us, we ringing to your door like rent*a*center
mickey d’s, i got power plays for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
old n*gga, you just talk about your past
kenny smith, coming off the vert my trap jumpin’, n*gga
dennis smith, i was worried bout a b*tch, that was b*tch again (the f*ck?)
my [?] throw hands for free, but i still just want the tip
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