lirik lagu bizarre – stanwill
[intro: krispylife kidd]
keep my mouth closed, i don’t f*ck with feds
kripsylife, n*gga
[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
me and [?] was in la, we was busting heads
get a knife [?] across his cheek, now he a [?] head
i kept my mouth closed like i don’t f*ck with feds
i did some bullsh*t, cut my hair like i don’t f*ck with dreads
that’s why i got the braids now
i hit this b*tch off my furniture, d*mn, me and lil’ baby got the same couch
i’m in a two*story with two pools, we ain’t got the same house
you was the man in high school but you a lame now
it’s been a wrap for other n*ggas since i came out
yo mama should’ve swallowed you when you came out
the chop make a beat against some ribs, you in pain now
[verse 2: stanwill]
i’m about to box you in, kidd, i ain’t gon’ lie, man
huh, think i need a diaper, my amiris, they bе full of sh*t
c*cky as the f*ck but my b*tch say i’m full of it
lil’ lever turn thе sports mode when i pull on it
t*double h*l, i’m with iur
yo whole gang could f*cking skydive, they ain’t fly as ours
chunky*ass shoes, skinny jeans, i live life bizarre
if we catch him out, off his top, he ain’t write a bar
i think yo b*tch wanna be with us ’cause we the littiest
dog sh*t, big sh*tters ’round me, we the sh*ttiest
i think
i’m a lil’ man, tryna fight? i’ma bl!cky it
up sh*t, we can talk sh*t, you can’t humble us
sixty hanging out the bop stick like a shuttle bus
it’s dior, balenciaga, yeezy if i double dutch
really in the field, you set a play, you get your huddle bust
[verse 3: kripsylife kidd]
they say it’s cold in these streets, you better bundle up
when i shoot heat for the beef, he got [?] up
i’m out here tripping, not giving no f*ck
you think stanwill gon’ fight? boy, you dumb f*ck
i mean, you dumb as f*ck
pop a n*gga at a wedding, he done fell into the punch
only reason i did it is ’cause he was ’bout to clutch
i don’t even f*ck with nick cannon but i brought the drum
smoked that n*gga like a ‘wood, i got a fonto stuffed
d*mn, i mean, i got a fonto tucked
them ain’t yo buffs, boy, them b*tches big as f*ck
them b*tches just might be a [?] them b*tches fake as f*ck
[verse 4: stanwill]
let the boys pursue, i’m off*road ’cause i’m trailhawking
hopping on our wave? we’ll knock the f*cking sails off him
the opps could never take me out, boy, y’all can’t even spell “coffin”
could never chase a b*tch ’cause lately i been chasing mail often
funny i’m with kidd, i got grown man pape on me
man, this b*tch so f*cking bougie, think she hate coney
bro done seen so many f*cking keys, he could be beethoven
we just got the drop, start the shoot or we gon’ lay on it
wouldn’t even tuck a f*cking shirt, boy, my chain hang
all this sh*t around, sh*ttyboyz, yeah, that’s gang gang
check the apple watch, think it’s time to the plain jane
chop got three hundred f*cking shots, yeah, bang*bang
[outro: stanwill]
huh, yeah
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