CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Boss Fight
Huh, yeah, okay
Three five, two Backwoods, one seven each (It's Bluestrip, baby)
Three five, two Backwoods, one seven each
Rolling sevens on the dice side, I made a seven piece
Punch and ball, b*t*h, I'm feeling like I'm Metta Piece
AR with the legs, crawl up on you like a centipede
Real card cracker, I ain't never sold amphetamines
Finna go in store, how much you wanna bet it ping?
Triple S beat tw?nty-two, you cannot step with me
At Bucharest for my for?ign b*t*h, she Lebanese
Huh, and I feel like Ray Lewis, I'm a sack chaser
Huh, Roman Reigns with yo b*t*h, I'm a back breaker
Huh, get the ball down court, I'm a fast breaker
Good Coney in the AM but it's crab later
Your opinion doesn't matter, you don't have paper
Four phones, finna touch, I'm a jack chaser
On the lodge, back to back, looking like some drag racers
Feel like Kane with this fire on me, I think Stan 'Taker
In the big league, let it pop like some bubble gum
Back to back plays, hit a store then another one
Knew I smelled pu**y when I heard the opps was in the room
Ain't no basketball, choppa sweep 'em like a f**king broom
Three fifth of this'll have you higher than giraffe nuts
Really came from nothing, I been humble, I don't brag much
F**king Saks up till the point the bags drags us
Everybody got some money now, put that cash up
I sleep with a camera just to watch my surroundings
Tuning out the d**k suckers and you know they lil' comments
You ain't seen what I seen, if you could, you'd probably vomit
You still chasing hoes, I started chasing after Sonic
Up the strap then I take action, I think I'm a verb
What's the point in dropping diss songs? They ain't never heard
Baby, I won't say a word, you could call me "Ferb"
You can really get it, just tell me what's the magic word
Walked through the set with body bags, I work Saks magic
I might throw the Gucci hat backwards, b*t*h, I cap lavish
EDD had dawg connected but he back lagging
You would the chop from Star Wars, b*t*h, I'm Cap Phasma
Better duck when we slide, the opps FBG and 'em
Cold-a** stones in my chain, feel like Steve and 'em
Summer time, the hoes asking why I got a sleeve with 'em
You could probably ask Stevie Wonder, bet he see me win
Nah, for real
Bro a hot head, ain't no telling dawg to chill
Play with her, paint her face, b*t*h, I'm for real
Virgil Abloh, b*t*h, I'm getting off, for real
X on me, ex want me, b*t*h, I'm living great
Fit 'bout exotic than a b*t*h, I wouldn't hit a eighth
If I play make, I'ma score than diss the play
Two sticks, f**k a PlayStation, boy, it's pistol play
Yeah
Granny told me go to church, she mad that all I do is sin
Tall chop knock him out like Alexander Gustafsson
Out of town trip, I'm just scamming with my newest BIN
Wock' in the cream pop, sh*t match the Louboutins
Third time I had to switch whips, the engine blew again
Turtle Pie gift box, I swear to God they flew it in
You pretty with some L's? Okay, I'm recruiting then
Desert Eagles in the Trackhawk when we swooping in
Finna be in this b*t*h walls like I'm moving in
Feel like 2012 DJ Khaled, all we do is win
Really thanking God for my blessings, all I do is sin
Long as my heart pumping, I'ma always get it in
All the opps do is talk, they probably good at giving tours
Took a trip to the bay, I'm in a Jeep with no doors
Whip my chain and beat around, taking pics on the shore
On a whole different level, I won't stoop down to yours
It's a tech or Off-White 1s if I do Nike
BIN heat, got my own fire, b*t*h, I'm Pooh Swipesty
Glock tucked, tryna shoot ones, I'ma shoot likely
Touchdown in LAX, now I'm in the coupe flying
Skrrt-skrrt, b*t*h, I'm switching lanes
N***as steady hating on the player, play a different game
Fake IDs, out of town, I'm using different names
These Dior, boy, them shell toes, we don't kick the same
That's a .9, this a .45, they don't kick the same
Huh
Them VS1s, these VVS, we don't kit the same
Huh, yeah, b*t*h
All my n***as up sh*t, we don't sh*t the same, b*t*h
Three five, two Backwoods, one seven each (It's Bluestrip, baby)
Three five, two Backwoods, one seven each
Rolling sevens on the dice side, I made a seven piece
Punch and ball, b*t*h, I'm feeling like I'm Metta Piece
AR with the legs, crawl up on you like a centipede
Real card cracker, I ain't never sold amphetamines
Finna go in store, how much you wanna bet it ping?
Triple S beat tw?nty-two, you cannot step with me
At Bucharest for my for?ign b*t*h, she Lebanese
Huh, and I feel like Ray Lewis, I'm a sack chaser
Huh, Roman Reigns with yo b*t*h, I'm a back breaker
Huh, get the ball down court, I'm a fast breaker
Good Coney in the AM but it's crab later
Your opinion doesn't matter, you don't have paper
Four phones, finna touch, I'm a jack chaser
On the lodge, back to back, looking like some drag racers
Feel like Kane with this fire on me, I think Stan 'Taker
In the big league, let it pop like some bubble gum
Back to back plays, hit a store then another one
Knew I smelled pu**y when I heard the opps was in the room
Ain't no basketball, choppa sweep 'em like a f**king broom
Three fifth of this'll have you higher than giraffe nuts
Really came from nothing, I been humble, I don't brag much
F**king Saks up till the point the bags drags us
Everybody got some money now, put that cash up
I sleep with a camera just to watch my surroundings
Tuning out the d**k suckers and you know they lil' comments
You ain't seen what I seen, if you could, you'd probably vomit
You still chasing hoes, I started chasing after Sonic
Up the strap then I take action, I think I'm a verb
What's the point in dropping diss songs? They ain't never heard
Baby, I won't say a word, you could call me "Ferb"
You can really get it, just tell me what's the magic word
Walked through the set with body bags, I work Saks magic
I might throw the Gucci hat backwards, b*t*h, I cap lavish
EDD had dawg connected but he back lagging
You would the chop from Star Wars, b*t*h, I'm Cap Phasma
Better duck when we slide, the opps FBG and 'em
Cold-a** stones in my chain, feel like Steve and 'em
Summer time, the hoes asking why I got a sleeve with 'em
You could probably ask Stevie Wonder, bet he see me win
Nah, for real
Bro a hot head, ain't no telling dawg to chill
Play with her, paint her face, b*t*h, I'm for real
Virgil Abloh, b*t*h, I'm getting off, for real
X on me, ex want me, b*t*h, I'm living great
Fit 'bout exotic than a b*t*h, I wouldn't hit a eighth
If I play make, I'ma score than diss the play
Two sticks, f**k a PlayStation, boy, it's pistol play
Yeah
Granny told me go to church, she mad that all I do is sin
Tall chop knock him out like Alexander Gustafsson
Out of town trip, I'm just scamming with my newest BIN
Wock' in the cream pop, sh*t match the Louboutins
Third time I had to switch whips, the engine blew again
Turtle Pie gift box, I swear to God they flew it in
You pretty with some L's? Okay, I'm recruiting then
Desert Eagles in the Trackhawk when we swooping in
Finna be in this b*t*h walls like I'm moving in
Feel like 2012 DJ Khaled, all we do is win
Really thanking God for my blessings, all I do is sin
Long as my heart pumping, I'ma always get it in
All the opps do is talk, they probably good at giving tours
Took a trip to the bay, I'm in a Jeep with no doors
Whip my chain and beat around, taking pics on the shore
On a whole different level, I won't stoop down to yours
It's a tech or Off-White 1s if I do Nike
BIN heat, got my own fire, b*t*h, I'm Pooh Swipesty
Glock tucked, tryna shoot ones, I'ma shoot likely
Touchdown in LAX, now I'm in the coupe flying
Skrrt-skrrt, b*t*h, I'm switching lanes
N***as steady hating on the player, play a different game
Fake IDs, out of town, I'm using different names
These Dior, boy, them shell toes, we don't kick the same
That's a .9, this a .45, they don't kick the same
Huh
Them VS1s, these VVS, we don't kit the same
Huh, yeah, b*t*h
All my n***as up sh*t, we don't sh*t the same, b*t*h
