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48 - bizzy banks lyrics

[intro: bizzy banks]
grrah
([?])
rrah, bizzy
(ayy, nori)
uh

[verse: bizzy banks]
n*ggas movin’ hot (hot, what?)
get out the stu’ and go and bend a block (rrah)
they know my body, heavy on the wok, huh
ha, (get money, b*tch), huh
n*ggas talkin’ hot
get out the stu’ and go and bend a block
they know my body, heavy on the wok
walk in the spot like, “every opp shot”
half of these rappers never sent a shot (at all)
half of these rappers gotta give me props
they think we cool ’cause i f*ck with some ‘jects
make kay hound 48 him to his death
b*tch, i’ma cl!ck it till it’s nothin’ left
like the orphan, i leave a baby on a step
he think he a shooter, put him to the test
everywhere that i go, i keep one in the head
they told me, “get back on that old sh*t”
got a beam on the glock, i know i won’t miss
they be spinnin’ no posted, that don’t make sense
i nut in her mouth, she say she taste triss
b*tch, i been drillin’ way before this sh*t
if it’s up, then it’s stuck just like a ornament
slide through his block and make a tournament
got one more line, i need some more of it
if it ain’t triss or wock’, then i ain’t pourin’ it
she keep callin’ my phone and i’m ignorin’ it
the opps keep on dissin’, i’m ignorin’ ’em
if it’s beef, i ain’t post it, i ain’t one of them
you wanna be the first to do somethin’? (somethin’)
be the first one to get off my d*ck
that n*gga runnin’, prayin’ that he trip
bro died in a crash, now they tryna diss
b*tch, i’m the reason all ya’ n*ggas lit
if ya’ moms got a car, prayin’ that it flip
you k!lled ya’ own mans, ain’t that some sh*t?
i don’t smoke [?] out the zip
yeah, that’s that bizzy they all wanna hear
you tryna diss to save his rap career
when i got to his block there’s never no one there
haha, look
[chorus: bizzy banks]
f*ck it, f*ck it, he tryna diss till i pull up and up it (grrah)
f*ck it, f*ck it, if they throw a party, we endin’ they function
f*ck it, f*ck it, he chill wit’ the opps, so that feature i’m dubbin’ (look)
(f*ck it, f*ck it, if it’s beef, why the f*ck is you [?], uh?)

[verse 2: jenn carter]
n*ggas be broke, but i cannot relate
.40 gon’ clap him like it’s patty cake
[?]
i already done cl!cked until his body shake
he on the net, i cannot tolerate
and when i’m off the wock i cannot operate
bullets gon hit him make him harlem shake
too tact, two phones just like i’m kevin gates
we don’t see how the [?] bullets making him hot, like
he [?] he fly like a pancake (d*mn)
[?]
and these n*ggas keep dissing, they been had the drop
like lil uzi, i been on a rampage
and these opps probably running my fan page
they on my d*ck and i do not understand it
grrah, when you run into me
better look back, there’s a beam on your feet
when i tote on my gun you can tell i’m elite, like
i be scoring like i’m in the league
if he raising the pressure i’m making him bleed, like
n*ggas be kids, i can’t beef with no infant
i can’t speak on the sh*t i committed
[chorus: bizzy banks]
f*ck it, he tryna diss till i pull up and up it
f*ck it, f*ck it, if they throw a party, we endin’ they function
f*ck it, f*ck it, he chill wit’ the opps, so that feature i’m dubbin’ (look)
(f*ck it, f*ck it, if it’s beef, why the f*ck is you stoppin’? look)
f*ck it, he tryna diss till i pull up and up it
f*ck it, f*ck it, if they throw a party, we endin’ they function
f*ck it, f*ck it, he chill wit’ the opps, so that feature i’m dubbin’ (look)
(f*ck it, f*ck it, if it’s beef, why the f*ck is you stoppin’? look)

[outro]
([?])

- bizzy banks lyrics

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