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stanky leg - otm lyrics

[intro: blue pesos]
b*tch
sh*t
(had to go and run it up like t)
why you rockin’ cough syrup? ain’t you an enemy?
foreigns in the lot, loose leaf, blowin’ ten deep
we ain’t comin’ from no scuffle, n*gga, beat the block
if i blow your ass down with this mini drac (sh*t)

[verse 1: blue pesos]
n*gga, take it back
you got what? you from where? we can take it there (sh*t)
n*gga, run it back
we just f*cked his week up with this automatic
don’t this got a sport plus? n*gga, go faster
chop suey, pulled it out the louis, hit this whole hundred
n*ggas thugs for the music but be straight b*tches
a hundred thousand in a duffel, not a k bustin’, ugh
lean with it, rock with it
.40 in my hand, play that slow jam, i’m john lennon
why y’all quiet? n*ggas ain’t gon’ call him out on it?
never mind, it’s all good, n*gga, stop talkin’
keep your mouth shut ‘fore i have to duct tape it
few crips i could call, bro, i need a favor
n*ggas straight pump fakers, clout chasers, no thank you
be grateful you ain’t end up in a box, why is you complainin’?
[chorus: blue pesos, duffy, blue pesos & duffy]
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?”
pour that mud up, exotic pop with the quagen in it, ugh
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
i ain’t gon’ blow his head off, that’s a for sure bet
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?” (hold on)
pour that mud up, exotic pop with the quagen in it, ugh
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
i ain’t gon’ blow his head off, that’s a for sure bet

[verse 2: duffy]
we just made a n*gga hit the stanky leg
your way don’t get you paid, try my way instead
i’m finna slap an old n*gga, i ain’t shakin’ hands
fin 57 put a n*gga in a baby bed, ugh
off a four of good wockesha
double coffee cup, i’m mud walkin’ with the two liter
who that bouncin’ out the black coupe? the baby stincmeaners
12 got up on me, i just bonked ’em in a beamer, ugh
she like, “duffy, what you on?”
pourin’ mud in a foreign, flu flammin’ on the road
do the dash on mei ling, we ain’t never lookin’ back
big bully breaker on my hip, what you lookin’ at? ugh

[chorus: blue pesos]
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?”
pour that mud up, exotic pop with the quagen in it, ugh
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
i ain’t gon’ blow his head off, that’s a for sure bet
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?”
pour that mud up, exotic pop with the quagen in it, ugh
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
i ain’t gon’ blow his head off, that’s a for sure bet (sh*t)
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?” pour that mud up
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
[verse 3: uchieboy]
“ayy, uchie, what you do?” i just pour up
book him for his juice, he touch mines, i’ma off somethin’
old n*ggas hatin’ on us ’cause we passed ’em
pull up to the s, we facin’ ‘woods, you shootin’ crips, don’t you?
when i get around bums, i feel uncomfortable
this blower come with a beam, you can’t run from me
stinc team, b*tch, give no passes to no bum n*ggas
muddy mose’ with the wockesha, put a four in it
this some outstandin’ sh*t’ll blow your face off
i did some outstandin’ sh*t and made an eight ball
this b*tch ugly, her titties h*lla shaky and her head bald
exotic pop, mix it with the wock’, b*tch, this straight drop (alright)

[verse 4: day3]
i never split sh*t up but i know mathematics
and you ain’t never bounced out, let the opps have it
your player pull up, if i trip, you gon’ up faster
oh, why these n*ggas askin’ for a fee and they ain’t own masters?
lil’ b*tch suck d*ck, she a scavenger
i can take you on a flock, you a amateur
n*gga say he want a song, hit my manager (ight)
n*gga say he want a song, hit my manager (playerr)

[verse 5: playerrways]
thirty*three shots, scottie pippen, hit your stanky leg
i’m bookin’ plugs for pints and they packed, call that qualitest
that back back card mashed up, you n*ggas never been there
in that house lookin’ for that stove, you ain’t been there
bop*bop*bop, i hope that buddah help me do my flock
thank you, mei ling, i run up out that crib with [?]
these jeans that i’m wearin’, yeah, i probably booked a buster for ’em
pull up, hop out, and start strippin’, said that he got with him
[chorus: blue pesos]
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?”
pour that mud up, exotic pop with the quagen in it, ugh
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
i ain’t gon’ blow his head off, that’s a for sure bet
“ayy, p, what you do on the daily?”
pour that mud up, exotic pop with the quagen in it, ugh
i just did a n*gga ruthless, hit the stanky leg
i ain’t gon’ blow his head off, that’s a for sure bet

- otm lyrics

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