CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : Glitch

Sh*t, that's a Danny G beat
Yeah, I see you, Stan
What up, Lando?
What up, Rich?
Ayy
Oh my
Yeah,?Sh*ttyBoyz
Ayy?(It's Lando, yo?b*t*h know, don't let yo b*t*h?go, n***a)

Two Perc' 10s make her bend over
Bands make these hoes wanna bring they best friend over
Found another glitch then I ran off with it
Caught another blitz but kept my hand off it
I'ma call you right back, I got a ounce to bake
Ayy, n***a, turn that sh*t down, I can't concentrate
I inherited a block that move ounces daily
I had a five year run before the cops ever ate me
Yeah, spectacular
B*t*hes wanna bite down on m? like they Dracula
After I hit h?r one time, I give her back to ya
Please keep that b*t*h on a leash, I'm damn near begging ya
My mans down the way, he damn near made the news
No [?] he down there making food
Yeah
Big 'rillas BAPE'd up, b*t*h, I can't hang with you
Ninety-nine percent of hoes trife, can't put a name on you
They telling fairy tales about Tron, that's what the fame'll do
I'ma cut you off at the head, I see the snake in you
My hitman'll knock the dreads off you, that's what pape'll do
Talking 'bout the f**king Taliban, pull up with K's and shoot
She gave me head 'cause my name buzzing, I ain't make a move
Got a couple pretty b*t*hes that'll set the play on you
Yeah
F**king on yo b*t*h from the back, 'Miris pulled down
Made her suck the d**k and the chain 'cause I got pull now
I can have my shooter if he pull 'round
2021, beep-beep when I pull out
Wish she would now, big Drakie with the 'Wood on it
Unc' got that on the stove, finna cook on it
Goddamn, why the f**k he put his foot on it?
Bin Reaper, fire BINs, see a reader, whoop on it

I caught a million dollar jugg, I put the hood on it
Could've hit you with that head juice, it taste good on it
Ayy, you gon' sh*t good off it
These hoes'll never get a ring like Charles Barkley
All these bands so good, he could swipe a harlet
In the InterContinental, valet parking 'Raris
I want some vegan type sh*t, she want calamari
B*t*h, you ain't from Detroit, yo pu**y Kalahari
Foreign kicks on, pull up sparking sh*t like Gallinari
Lil' bro don't go to school, he kicked out for snatching Cartis
I'm a motherf**king stack packer, you gon' have to guard me
A hundred weapons scat around the spot, we can match the army
Off-White, touch a fabric on you, choppa back you off me
Hutch got my piece on dance mode, feel like a Jabbawockee
Better shoot that text to my phone, you ain't have to call me
B*t*h had me out my element, now I'm back to balling

Yeah, b*t*h, yeah, now I'm back to balling
Better shoot that to my phone, you ain't have to call me
Yeah, like I'm Gallinari, b*t*h
Sh*ttyBoyz, Sh*ttyBoyz, Sh*ttyBoyz
Yeah, b*t*h
You know who the f**k it is, BabyTron
Sh*t, that's a Danny G beat