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nyc - bizzy banks lyrics

[intro]
rrah
get money
bizzy

[verse]
look, it’s like 85 degrees bring the b*tches out (bring the b*tches out)
1942 and casamigo bring the chicken out
brodie watch the opps live if he said them n*ggas drillin’ out (what?)
i told em’ that they down on the score so they be chillin’ out (facts)
i hate when b*tches get drunk and let they feelings out
that’s why i f*ck a b*tch good and then i kick her out (gotta go)
my lil b*tch heard the song she like “that’s whatchu doing?”
i said “girl you gotta chill, you know it’s just music.” (like—)
and you can tell her ass real, look how her legs move wit’ it (move wit’ it)
you think i brought a fast car just to chill and cruise in it? (cruisе in it?)
i’m in the trenches swеrvin’ potholes they say i’m losin’ it (losin’ it)
and go and take their jewelry back cause that sh*t aluminum (haha)
i can still hit the trap and go and move a few of them (move a few of them)
ask these rappers half these n*ggas don’t know what to do with them (at all)
all the sh*t i hate doing it be lookin’ cute to them
n*ggas never did it but they teach it to the youth and ’em
call me a bad motherf*cker cause i’m really screwin’ them
yeah (yeah)
i f*cked a lot of n*ggas’ mothers (a lot of n*ggas’ mothers)
a lot of n*ggas gang but not a lot of n*ggas brothers
yeah they hated us back then but i bet now n*ggas love us (now n*ggas love us)
and for the n*ggas pillow talkin’, better take cover (take cover)
cause when i slide it’s the k!llin’ send you to the upper (to the—)
how you talk down on the n*ggas just so you could f*ck her? (what?)
and if i gotta do that, then i will never touch her
i’m on the block every day, i’m just a different hustler
and these n*ggas can’t catch up so i just call ’em mustard
those the bros, we a family like live n’ color
ain’t talkin’ tens, come to the hood and you could step in b*tter (step in b*tter)
yeah that ten sh*t, they hoppin’ out that van quick (van quick)
you ain’t never [?], had no shootouts on that van wyck (rrah)
i don’t even look or go reply to all that fan sh*t (rrah)
cause these n*ggas talk hot but never did sh*t to the d*mn kid (at all)
i was a baby but i still was on that man sh*t
hop out and we blam sh*t (hop out and we—)
yeah my n*ggas gon’ [?] (my n*ggas gon’)
brodie gon’ just shoot cause he don’t really understand sh*t (understand what?)
n*ggas get caught and start singin’ like they sam smith
i said i could keep on goin’ if you want me to (if you want me to)
them n*ggas will move like you cool but they don’t f*ck with you (they don’t f*ck wit’ you)
i be in the jungle with my jewelry livin’ comfortable (comfortable)
still livin’ sleazy
do a n*gga greasy (greasy)
what, i gotta post on the gram to believe me? (huh?)
watchu think, imma let the opps catch me easy? (what?)
way before chief keef we was spinnin’ bumpin’ wheezy (facts)
we was in the trap bumpin’ gucci mane and jeezy (gucci mane and jeezy)
i used to dream bout pelly, i ain’t never know bout cleazys (at all)
bro just took 3, i told him holla if you need me (if they need me)
they wonder how i do it without looking like i’m stevey
i just make a call, they hide his head up like a beanie (rrah)
(uh)

- bizzy banks lyrics

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