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stilly willy - shittyboyz lyrics

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[intro: stanwill]
i could blow a— (okay, kmoney), yup

[verse 1: stanwill]
i could blow a fifty, you can’t blow a five
woke up rich as f*ck today, might buy the ho revive
k!lled the p*ssy, bet the perc she popped done made the ho revive
see me cheatin’, she gon’ cry a river, i’m on ocean drive
she like how my diamonds glisten, b*tch, i got all kind of chicken
talkin’ all that broke sh*t through your lips, b*tch, i ain’t trnya listen
new ar with telescope attached, can get him sniped from distance
forty cracked a stilly w*lly*o, done took a sprite and mixed it
bro rock maison off his christian, but hе atheist
sticked up in that oven mitt, you know wе bakin’ sh*t
he like madden for that sack, you know i play to blitz
ain’t ’bout how you fall, it’s how you get up when you take a hit

[verse 2: trdee]
this sh*t get lethal, i can’t never leave without my weapon
touch down in the bay, they treat me just like stephen
pat bev’, if i see ’em out, i gotta press ’em
step in my closet, i can show you how to do these dresses
sh*t’ll never change, same crew until the end
thinkin’ ’bout this sh*t you did and how i took it to the chin
thinkin’ ’bout them lame n*ggas that be hatin’ on the gang
how you up some dog sh*t and you don’t even got a chain?
i be chillin’ at the crib, feet up, not at the club
i don’t think you really up if you can’t show me a dub
i don’t think you got what it takes, i feel like simon cowell
they gon’ love you when you up, but who gon’ be there when you down?
[verse 3: babytron]
they gon’ love you while you winnin’, how about during the losing streak?
he stealin’ everybody sauce, he don’t know who to be
we’ll leave his body in the ditch on a secluded street
young as h*ll but too schooled, you ever seen a student teach?
i’m gettin’ bored with the us, i d*mn near flew to greece
pull up shootin’ in that sleeve like i’m in the hooping team
streets a dirty game, you gotta know the rules extinct
uppin’ blues and pink, ask your b*tch why y’all got some ruined sheets
stumpin’ in that jag’ like maurice jones*drew
dog ain’t finna make it far like he put three on two
we got tracers in the clip, it ain’t no co2
the block full of zombies, you would think it’s bo2, sh*t

[verse 4: stanwill]
me and bro on doggy head, we like mitch*ll and ness
cuddy servin’ junkies, tryna get rich in the ‘jects
throw some quick sh*t at an opp, i could pitch for the mets
tell ’em princess cut me up at hutch, i can’t get the baguettes

[verse 5: trdee]
i can’t see behind the tint because it’s five percent
she like, “dee, what’s that you wearin’?” i’m like, b*tch, that sh*t
walkin’ with some dead n*ggas, sh*t, i feel like rick
gang and them be on some hot sh*t, so they can’t take a pic’
[verse 6: babytron]
the bullets grazed his hair, we missed his buddy by a sliver
why he actin’ like that’s ice? that’s silver moissanite and glitter
said she sick of losers, bumped into me tryna find a winner
guess it’s her lucky day

[outro: babytron]
sh*ttyboyz, dog sh*t militia, long live $cam
okay, kmoney
i got a hundred*fifty on me, that’s pipe money
this that you don’t wanna start a war, just play it safe money, you know?

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