CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Amazin’
Ayy, ayy
It's Primo Beats, b*t*h
Ayy, Sh*ttyBoyz
When I mask up, I'm a villain, not a hero
BOA?loose,?I done hit?it with some zeros
Had a dub?in school, you was chilling with the weird hoes
Getting bullied?and?you?still broke
I could?pull up big?'Cat and leave a big scratch
All I hear is big cap, you need a big hat
You ain't never switch 'Cats, took a trip back
Threw the braids in, b*t*h thought that I was Riff Raff
I don't ever think I'll make a song for the ho
Punch your b*t*h a lil' thong and made her throw it on
Aaron Rodgers, I'm a cheesehead, packing provolone
I know you see the bangs, up the chop and I'ma blow his 'fro
I done took so many sips from this cup, I almost fell in
That ain't make sense, ask the stripper, "Can you spell 'tripping'?"
on, smoke gelato so I smell different
Get yo cousin out the f**king trap or my tail's missing
Lungs full of blue guava
Up the five on her, she was asking if I knew Sada
'014, I was tripping in them blue Pradas
Nut stain on 'em, yo b*t*h head is a true problem
Should've took him to the shoe doctor
Trash-a** b*t*h want some green like she knew Oscar
Yeah, this some new lobster
Dawg on tip, we just laughing, don't know who popped her
Swear to God, on God, don't know who popped her
Sleeve Nash activated, yeah, make her on it
Unkie got that, he put a two on it
Looking at the field, so many touchdowns been threw on it
I just made a eight in a five, I feel like Ochocinco
New jack city, what? Best believe I'm blowing in it
I could aim in a thousand yards, boy, this scope so lethal
B*t*h, I'm balling, I remember when I used to roam the bleachers
I been had thrust like I could've f**ked my art teacher
Big up up, I been f**king up them card readers
BAPE zip with the chop, ever had a shark greet you?
You gon' act tough till that f**king heartbeat leave
.223s, we'll give his a** a flatline
Four after four after four, b*t*h, it's nap time
Road, hit the road, hit the road, b*t*h, it's jack time
If she bending over, break her rim, yeah, it's Shaq time
Looking in the mirror, I remember when they played it crazy
I'ma make this d**k touch yo ribs, I ain't playing, baby
Really don't know if the plastic or the paper made it
Exotic pop with the, this sh*t taste amazing
It's Primo Beats, b*t*h
Ayy, Sh*ttyBoyz
When I mask up, I'm a villain, not a hero
BOA?loose,?I done hit?it with some zeros
Had a dub?in school, you was chilling with the weird hoes
Getting bullied?and?you?still broke
I could?pull up big?'Cat and leave a big scratch
All I hear is big cap, you need a big hat
You ain't never switch 'Cats, took a trip back
Threw the braids in, b*t*h thought that I was Riff Raff
I don't ever think I'll make a song for the ho
Punch your b*t*h a lil' thong and made her throw it on
Aaron Rodgers, I'm a cheesehead, packing provolone
I know you see the bangs, up the chop and I'ma blow his 'fro
I done took so many sips from this cup, I almost fell in
That ain't make sense, ask the stripper, "Can you spell 'tripping'?"
on, smoke gelato so I smell different
Get yo cousin out the f**king trap or my tail's missing
Lungs full of blue guava
Up the five on her, she was asking if I knew Sada
'014, I was tripping in them blue Pradas
Nut stain on 'em, yo b*t*h head is a true problem
Should've took him to the shoe doctor
Trash-a** b*t*h want some green like she knew Oscar
Yeah, this some new lobster
Dawg on tip, we just laughing, don't know who popped her
Swear to God, on God, don't know who popped her
Sleeve Nash activated, yeah, make her on it
Unkie got that, he put a two on it
Looking at the field, so many touchdowns been threw on it
I just made a eight in a five, I feel like Ochocinco
New jack city, what? Best believe I'm blowing in it
I could aim in a thousand yards, boy, this scope so lethal
B*t*h, I'm balling, I remember when I used to roam the bleachers
I been had thrust like I could've f**ked my art teacher
Big up up, I been f**king up them card readers
BAPE zip with the chop, ever had a shark greet you?
You gon' act tough till that f**king heartbeat leave
.223s, we'll give his a** a flatline
Four after four after four, b*t*h, it's nap time
Road, hit the road, hit the road, b*t*h, it's jack time
If she bending over, break her rim, yeah, it's Shaq time
Looking in the mirror, I remember when they played it crazy
I'ma make this d**k touch yo ribs, I ain't playing, baby
Really don't know if the plastic or the paper made it
Exotic pop with the, this sh*t taste amazing
