CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Sour Punch Kids
Marc Boomin, I miss you
Hot as hell in the whip, riding with three pistols
I just?blew?a n***a crib?up with three missiles
Riding in a?Scat Pack, look like a green pickle
I drink red, lame n***as sip green liquor
I just rode through yo hood and you wasn't in it
I can't meet you for the sauce, you gotta come get it
This a baby Draco with a drum in it
Hit her from the back, she keep saying, "Put yo thumb in it"
Talking 'bout fighting, do I look like Triple H?
I'ma let this Glock punch you like a middleweight
Been on the road for two days and I'm still awake
I ain't hopping out my bag 'less I'm hopping in some pape
Feel like Tim Duncan, I been scoring in the bank
I ain't a shrimp but it's sitting on my dinner plate
Time is money, I refuse to be a minute late
Quon pulled up with a .40 looking for some pistol play
Got a piece for every puzzle but you hoes still a mystery
Left my old b*t*h in the past, history
I done jugged another granny off the trickery
Real slimeball, pray that God don't see the sin in me
I don't know what you thought but it's not this
My shooter wear gla**es, dawg, he will not miss
He couldn't start out wide receiver, how he drop sh*t
Swear to God I love Chase, I just pop six
Made two in one play, boy, I really made a ten
Game breaker on, boy, I'm finna break the rim
Thirty day grind, I ain't finna get a [?]
She ask who I am, told that lil' b*t*h I'm him
Skinny-a** n***a, still was flexing in the gym
Jumped in with the sharks, I ain't know how to swim
White b*t*h, big booty, bro, almost called her "Kim"
I'll let them .223s go and rip through his limbs
B*t*hes see me out in traffic like, "Damn, that's really him"
Fifty for a eighth, b*t*h, I'm smoking on Chemdawg
Get yo b*t*h off my balls
This some super Cookie, got me bouncing off the walls
Lil' b*t*h bugging, I'ma spray her with the OFF!
Pa** dawg a map, brodie out here looking lost
I f**k up the mall, you still worried about the cost
Sh*ttyBoyz broke? B*t*h, that's false
Hot as hell in the whip, riding with three pistols
I just?blew?a n***a crib?up with three missiles
Riding in a?Scat Pack, look like a green pickle
I drink red, lame n***as sip green liquor
I just rode through yo hood and you wasn't in it
I can't meet you for the sauce, you gotta come get it
This a baby Draco with a drum in it
Hit her from the back, she keep saying, "Put yo thumb in it"
Talking 'bout fighting, do I look like Triple H?
I'ma let this Glock punch you like a middleweight
Been on the road for two days and I'm still awake
I ain't hopping out my bag 'less I'm hopping in some pape
Feel like Tim Duncan, I been scoring in the bank
I ain't a shrimp but it's sitting on my dinner plate
Time is money, I refuse to be a minute late
Quon pulled up with a .40 looking for some pistol play
Got a piece for every puzzle but you hoes still a mystery
Left my old b*t*h in the past, history
I done jugged another granny off the trickery
Real slimeball, pray that God don't see the sin in me
I don't know what you thought but it's not this
My shooter wear gla**es, dawg, he will not miss
He couldn't start out wide receiver, how he drop sh*t
Swear to God I love Chase, I just pop six
Made two in one play, boy, I really made a ten
Game breaker on, boy, I'm finna break the rim
Thirty day grind, I ain't finna get a [?]
She ask who I am, told that lil' b*t*h I'm him
Skinny-a** n***a, still was flexing in the gym
Jumped in with the sharks, I ain't know how to swim
White b*t*h, big booty, bro, almost called her "Kim"
I'll let them .223s go and rip through his limbs
B*t*hes see me out in traffic like, "Damn, that's really him"
Fifty for a eighth, b*t*h, I'm smoking on Chemdawg
Get yo b*t*h off my balls
This some super Cookie, got me bouncing off the walls
Lil' b*t*h bugging, I'ma spray her with the OFF!
Pa** dawg a map, brodie out here looking lost
I f**k up the mall, you still worried about the cost
Sh*ttyBoyz broke? B*t*h, that's false
