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lirik lagu him – stanwill

[intro]
hey blake, where you at?
wchew, ayyyy, b*tch
if i’m in the, it’s gon, it don’t need no
ayyyy, huh, okay

[verse and beat 1]
if i’m in the club it’s gon rain, you don’t need no weather app
all that sh*tty rapping ass, come up with some better cap
you won’t catch me with no rats but i’m where the cheddar at
your b*tch safer over here, she know this where the steppers at
i couldn’t f*ck pre*buffs, but i’m in her guts now
said he had smoke with us?
funny he some runtz now
empire sent the bag i ain’t gotta punch now (fraud)
fine dining with my b*tch $200 lunch now (sh*t)
got your b*tch bikini bottoms wet as goo lagoon (f*ck)
know its guala on the floor you see me shoot a move (no cap)
ksubi’s stuffed with 20’s i don’t do the true’s
know some demons that was shooting opps when you was shooting hoops
huh, okay okay, huh (yeah)
fly as h*ll b*tches breaking necks looking up (breaking necks)
i be scamming, unky in the ‘rex cookin up (pew)
new b*tch she the sh*t, seen my ex looking rough
[interlude 1 * stanwill]
b*tch, b*tch, yeah yeah
you don’t touch the pape i touch
you don’t f*ck the hoes i f*ck
big dogsh*t militia, i’m the biggest sh*tter out
you should know this sh*t

[verse and beat 2]
they know we up, yeah b*tch, yeah
they know we up dogsh*t
pushing up the buffy’s left my middle finger frostbit
you won’t never see me with no yorkie’s all my dogs pit’s
mr. buy it all i blew a 20 on a mall trip
tell the opps to call quits
tee by off*white, jeans amiri, goose canadian
rich as f*ck, designer head*wraps, the crew arabian
ar fully, telescope attached, could shoot an alien
fear of god, dior christian, i’m like “who an atheist?”
every glockiana got a switch we brought the fully’s out
show your b*tch what’s in my pocket bet she pull her goodies out
i ain’t thinking bout my exes, rock em on my hoodie now (dogsh*t militia, gang gang b*tch you know what the f*ck going on)
‘miris hold the glock but the f*nny full of dead faces
your b*tch got the wop, only hit her cause the head crazy
looking for his thot? oh she somewhere in my bed ain’t she
talking to the cops, know you sick your baby fed ain’t he (fed ain’t he?)
[interlude 2 * jackass’s dave england]
i’m proud, and i’d consider myself a professional sh*tter
which i, i think there’s very few of
i’m sure there’s some others out there
but, can you name one?
prolly not

[verse and beat 3]
yeah, all of my b*tches like fashion
my n*ggas like money
my k!llas like shooting
when they with gang they be playing with b*lls, but none of these b*tches be hooping (haha no cap)
tripping in traffic we active ot, back to back all our vehicles ruthless (skrrt, skrrt)
he bring his b*tch to the club when gang in the section he leaving it boo*less (bye)
she know we playing with racks (yeah)
none of my n*ggas be cap (naw)
i blew a 20 in saks (yeah)
none of these n*ggas get dapped (naw)
walking out turtle pie co., with bags of the gas my n*ggas be smacked (yeah)
why the f*ck this b*tch ask “what’s my pr*nouns?”, she knowing i’m that (huh)
the amg got 5%’s, the buffy’s got mirror i’m peeping through tints (d*mn!)
it’s funny he ain’t got the flu but if he catch a shot we leaving him sick (ahah)
all of your dogs just be barking, they ain’t got no bite, i be with them pit’s (ruff)
dogsh*t militia should be cottonelle, they knowing we be with the sh*ts (gang)
these n*ggas ain’t gang for real
i just want money, i been had the b*tches
i don’t give a f*ck bout no fame for real (i don’t)
could be a noose around neck, and no monkey bars you still couldn’t hang for real
ar a fully, the scope got a variable zoom, you know we got range for real (brrrt, brrrt, brrrt, b*tch)
[outro]
dumbass n*gga
real sh*ttyboyz sh*t she gon f*ck cause the sh*ttyboyz lit
but you already know that though (already know that though)?
the biggest sh*tters (biggest sh*tters)

- stanwill

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