CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Levels
Sh*ttyBoyz
You could be Lionel Messi, I wouldn't kick it with you
Two slips for a meal? we eat off different menus
I can't feel love? baby? I don't see a difference in you
I'm just tryna get up in yo walls like I'm living with you
Got more straps than a Nuketown Free-for-All
Swipers life, told coach, "You could keep the ball"
Played it smooth? cashier couldn't peep the fraud
Eye on my Kenzo tee, I done seen it all
Dr. Miami over here, don't get yo a** shot
B***erfingers over there? you let the bag drop
Piece too fire, nah, this ain't the last stop
I'm the type to run that sh*t up until my calf pop
Real superst**ious but I'm still finna come Wraith
Crazy how this U of M b*t*h got the dumb face
In my bag, hell nah, I can't pump brakes
Bro a real shooter, hell nah, he don't pump fake
Ha-ha, yeah, we on two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
There's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Ha-ha, two different levels
It's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
I'm not looking for no love
Looking for a b*t*h that's gon' set up my plug
Not talking 'bout no juggs, talking 'bout 256s
And my b*t*h wanna punch, you should invest in some inches
Roll in my pocket, my sh*t used to be empty
Send her to the store, "B*t*h, don't forget my [?]"
You made what from selling crud? N***a, don't even tip me
'Cause these hams got me up but this sh*t getting risky
Sauce day, I ain't selling nothing less than fifty
Paid the sleeve for the pants, I'm so sick, they don't fit me
No cap, I was still pulling hoes in the D**kies
Now I'm straight, I remember you was playing like you was busy
New b*t*h so bad, fell in love with the Visas
Ran it up, boy, I feel bad for Ms. Lisa
Yo a** fat as hell 'cause you only punch pizza
You would get in that room and get to singing like Aretha
Ha-ha, yeah, we on two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
There's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Ha-ha, two different levels
It's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
I been all the way turnt, feel like Roscoe Dash
Tryna play me like a ham? I'ma pop yo a**
Tryna run off with that cheese? Boy, not so fast
gang and grab the bag, boy, I gotta blast
Good jacks, grab the sack like Ndamukong
Hoes used to cook me, f**king with my confidence
Now I do the Gucci so they giving compliments
Good drip, got the splash off of fraudulence
See this b*t*h peeking out the corner of her eye
Little do she know that I'm scorching off the slides
Feeling like the star so I'm aiming for the sky
Running to the money like I'm running out of time
Sh*ttyBoyz up to something, I can promise that
I was paranoid and punched a fan like Ron Ortiz
Do you know the pressure when you got yo mama on yo back?
Matter fact, I know that you wouldn't 'cause you on yo a**
You could be Lionel Messi, I wouldn't kick it with you
Two slips for a meal? we eat off different menus
I can't feel love? baby? I don't see a difference in you
I'm just tryna get up in yo walls like I'm living with you
Got more straps than a Nuketown Free-for-All
Swipers life, told coach, "You could keep the ball"
Played it smooth? cashier couldn't peep the fraud
Eye on my Kenzo tee, I done seen it all
Dr. Miami over here, don't get yo a** shot
B***erfingers over there? you let the bag drop
Piece too fire, nah, this ain't the last stop
I'm the type to run that sh*t up until my calf pop
Real superst**ious but I'm still finna come Wraith
Crazy how this U of M b*t*h got the dumb face
In my bag, hell nah, I can't pump brakes
Bro a real shooter, hell nah, he don't pump fake
Ha-ha, yeah, we on two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
There's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Ha-ha, two different levels
It's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
I'm not looking for no love
Looking for a b*t*h that's gon' set up my plug
Not talking 'bout no juggs, talking 'bout 256s
And my b*t*h wanna punch, you should invest in some inches
Roll in my pocket, my sh*t used to be empty
Send her to the store, "B*t*h, don't forget my [?]"
You made what from selling crud? N***a, don't even tip me
'Cause these hams got me up but this sh*t getting risky
Sauce day, I ain't selling nothing less than fifty
Paid the sleeve for the pants, I'm so sick, they don't fit me
No cap, I was still pulling hoes in the D**kies
Now I'm straight, I remember you was playing like you was busy
New b*t*h so bad, fell in love with the Visas
Ran it up, boy, I feel bad for Ms. Lisa
Yo a** fat as hell 'cause you only punch pizza
You would get in that room and get to singing like Aretha
Ha-ha, yeah, we on two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
There's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Ha-ha, two different levels
It's y'all boys and then it's us, it's two different levels
Flying past y'all, we pushing on two different pedals
I'm on the road and you at work, that's two different schedules
I been all the way turnt, feel like Roscoe Dash
Tryna play me like a ham? I'ma pop yo a**
Tryna run off with that cheese? Boy, not so fast
gang and grab the bag, boy, I gotta blast
Good jacks, grab the sack like Ndamukong
Hoes used to cook me, f**king with my confidence
Now I do the Gucci so they giving compliments
Good drip, got the splash off of fraudulence
See this b*t*h peeking out the corner of her eye
Little do she know that I'm scorching off the slides
Feeling like the star so I'm aiming for the sky
Running to the money like I'm running out of time
Sh*ttyBoyz up to something, I can promise that
I was paranoid and punched a fan like Ron Ortiz
Do you know the pressure when you got yo mama on yo back?
Matter fact, I know that you wouldn't 'cause you on yo a**
