big tymers - hotboy wes lyrics
[intro: hotboy wes]
at your wrist for?
she say, “why you starin’ down at your wrist for?”
she say, “why you starin’ down at your wrist for?” ayy
she say, “why you starin’ down at your wrist for?”
[chorus: hotboy wes]
b*tch say, “why you keep on starin’ down at your wrist for?”
’cause i’m a felon, i’m used to havin’ my wrist cuffed
i remember sleepin’ on the floor at my big mama’s
prayin’ i ain’t get my roll on like the big tymers
b*tch say, “why you keep on starin’ down at your wrist for?”
’cause i’m a felon, i’m used to havin’ my wrist cuffed
i remember sleepin’ on the floor at my big mama’s
prayin’ i ain’t get my roll on like the big tymers
[verse 1: hotboy wes]
b*tch, i’m from the projects (9th street), where n*ggas whip that pyrex (whip, whip)
and we ain’t have no food to eat and that was hard to digest (ugh)
mama writin’, hidin’ checks (woo), that’s when i told myself
that i’ma get some money, thеn flex like a bicep (bang, bang)
promisеs that i kept, that rollie feel amazing
thuggin’ since i been a baby, you can ask the candy lady, look (on god)
they say, “hotboy, you the truth, you a hero” (‘preciate that, ‘preciate that)
since a juvie, i been stickin’ to the g code (wow)
rollie on my wrist, i feel like sub*zero (freeze)
knock, knock, grab the glock, who at the peephole? (icewater, who is that?)
and you don’t wanna play with me, i go in beast mode
and you don’t wanna play with me, i go in beast mode
[chorus: hotboy wes]
b*tch say, “why you keep on starin’ down at your wrist for?”
’cause i’m a felon, i’m used to havin’ my wrist cuffed
i remember sleepin’ on the floor at my big mama’s
prayin’ i ain’t get my roll on like the big tymers
b*tch say, “why you keep on starin’ down at your wrist for?”
’cause i’m a felon, i’m used to havin’ my wrist cuffed
i remember sleepin’ on the floor at my big mama’s
prayin’ i ain’t get my roll on like the big tymers
[verse 2: trapboy freddy]
sleepin’ on the floor at big mama’s, watchin’ big tymers
stayed down grindin’, got my wrist shinin’, check them big diamonds
i come from a hood where you make the news ‘fore you buy some shoes
they gon’ take it if you stash it, gotta take your pack to your classes (classes)
poppin’*ass n*gga, we was poppin’ the pistol
cookin’ that work, we was choppin’ that issue
my mind on a mission, i stayed in the kitchen
these n*ggas be dissin’, they find theyself missin’
he doin’ bad, woah (woah), i thought you had dough (thought you had dough)
we roll the bag, no (roll the bag, no), i’m on my last load (on my last load)
we run out of money, we run in your sh*t
them young n*ggas hungry, they comin’ to get it
the opps in the city, we poppin’ them with it
two under your fitted and go leave the bity
i got them bands for ’em (got them bands for ’em), hold ’em ransom (hold ’em ransom)
f*ck a hand call (f*ck a hand call), b*tch, we banned all (boy, we banned all)
[chorus: hotboy wes]
b*tch say, “why you keep on starin’ down at your wrist for?”
’cause i’m a felon, i’m used to havin’ my wrist cuffed
i remember sleepin’ on the floor at my big mama’s
prayin’ i ain’t get my roll on like the big tymers
b*tch say, “why you keep on starin’ down at your wrist for?”
’cause i’m a felon, i’m used to havin’ my wrist cuffed
i remember sleepin’ on the floor at my big mama’s
prayin’ i ain’t get my roll on like the big tymers
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