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hunnits trynna run - scy jimm lyrics

[intro]
yeah, uh
know what i’m sayin’, uh
f*ck a n*gga
d*mn
know what i’m sayin’?

[chorus]
this sh*t i’m smokin’ potent like some f*ckin’ meth or somethin’
playin’ with that pot, bring me gold like leprechaun (on gang)
ridin’ with a glock 23 like i’m lebron (grrah, grrah, grrah)
ma dukes, she raised a hustler, n*gga, i’m my mama’s son (yeah)
a hundred ain’t enough, i need m’s, metric ton (m’s)
how you ain’t got no money, but you postin’ all them guns, n*gga? (f*ck?)
i’m the type to pop out in amiri jeans and 1s, n*gga (yeah, yeah)
wake up chasing racks, look at them hundreds tryna run (got ’em)

[verse]
they know i’m a problem, they say go get ’em, i got ’em (go get ’em, i got ’em)
all this water on my wrist look like thе d*mn bikini bottom (f*ck)
these lil’ n*ggas my sons, they doin’ еverything i taught ’em (everything i taught ’em)
they took off way before me, i’m still wonderin’ how i caught ’em (f*ck?)
b*tch, the summer’s mine
florida n*gga, pop out black hoodie in the summertime (hoo, hoo)
bro don’t hoop, but keep a 4*5 like rondonumbanine (me, n*gga)
real player, she ain’t with the sh*ts, then she ain’t one of mine, n*gga (the f*ck, n*gga?)
go’n pull your cameraphone out, it’s a photoshoot (photoshoot)
we was takin’ pics, now we f*ckin’ in the photo booth (yeah, yeah)
baby, you so bad, all the n*ggas notice you (all the n*ggas notice you)
i been runnin’ racks up, gettin’ chicken like i’m ‘posed to do (on gang)
i came out the p*ssy ford tough, i was made for this (i was built for this)
rollie on my wrist, forty thousand what i paid for this (n*gga)
standin’ on the block still broke, he ain’t makin’ sh*t (come on, man)
all i gotta do is hit the booth and i can make a hit (yeah)
hit this gas, i’m in that mode (i’m in that mode), b*tch, i’m known to get sh*t sold (known to get sh*t sold)
i’m still gettin’ cheese from tapes i dropped like two, three years ago
if you ain’t got a hundred thousand, what the f*ck you chillin’ for? (f*ck you chillin’ for?)
n*gga mad about a b*tch and i ain’t even hit the ho, n*gga (haha)
put it on my life, i bet the house these n*ggas ain’t f*ckin’ with me (these n*ggas ain’t f*ckin’ with me)
f*ck 12, i’m out this b*tch trappin’ ’til they come and get me (f*ck ’em)
i ain’t dealin’ with her, she ain’t a ten, with my hoes, i’m picky (outta here)
i get her home and blow her back out, got her screamin’ ricky (ricky, yeah)
[chorus]
this sh*t i’m smokin’ potent like some f*ckin’ meth or somethin’
playin’ with that pot, bring me gold like leprechaun (ooh, ooh)
ridin’ with a glock 23 like i’m lebron (grrah, grrah, grrah)
ma dukes, she raised a hustler, n*gga, i’m my mama’s son (i’m my mama’s son)
a hundred ain’t enough, i need m’s, metric ton (yeah, yeah)
how you ain’t got no money, but you postin’ all them guns, n*gga? (f*ck?)
i’m the type to pop out in amiri jeans and 1s, n*gga (yeah, yeah)
wake up chasing racks, look at them hundreds tryna run (got ’em)

[outro]
n*gga
yeah
f*ck a n*gga, uh
get cheese, n*gga
get cheese, n*gga, uh
get cheese, n*gga (f*ckin’ rookie ass, uh)

- scy jimm lyrics

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