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tip off - shittyboyz lyrics

[intro]
(damjonboi)

[verse 1: trddee]
when the tipoff? i been waitin’ just to ball
i ain’t telling you sh*t, just give me my call
sick i have to cut you off, i thought you was my dog
f*ck i look like chasin’ hoes? man, i don’t even dog
i can’t leave the crib without my glocky, it’s a part of me
if i miss your ass, you really lucky, play the lottery
wanna be like me, i’m disrespected by you mockin’ me
always jumpin’ sh*tty ’cause i know my haters watchin’ me

[verse 2: stanwill]
jeans by amiri, hoodie gallery (yeah)
your b*tch say she love me, oh, that’s flattering (aw)
need a check, you want me at your gathering
i’m at action impact for attachments, told ’em, “ladder me” (brrt)
bro like shootin’ rappers, think he cole bennett (baow)
he thought she was loyal, but these hoes wicked (nah)
ar got a scope, could pop him long distance
i don’t want that lil’ neck if it don’t leave my toes twitching (phew)

[verse 3: babytron]
phew, brrt, yeah
lax to atl and then i’m back to the d
catchin’ z’s off the red, sippin’ act’ in my sleep
it’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s a dream
why i try to fit a hundred in my jeans? ripped the seams
chula, flip phone beatin’, i ain’t seen ’em, it’s a fiend
had my d*ck down her throat, why you think that b*tch a queen?
forty got a double cup, stand and sleep, mr. bean
life a movie, but i’m here, sh*t, i wouldn’t switch a scene
[verse 4: trdee]
i won’t switch teams, tim duncan on the spurs
he thought he was street until we left him on the curb
f*cked a couple n*ggas’ b*tches, know they feelings hurt
he wanted some clout, so we put him on a shirt
you can’t come around if you ain’t fam’ or the gang
brodie makin’ hits just like a rapper, get a chain
you be with some centers tryna shoot, ain’t got no aim
i’m forever straight, just roll a ‘wood for the pain

[verse 5: stanwill]
money on your top, all my k!llers know is get you
it’s a dirty game, so you know i tote the pistol
life too short for playing, catch an opp and blow the whistle
bro’ll wipe your nose quicker than you blow a tissue
dior on my feet, ksubi denim on my ass
thinkin’ ’bout some b*tches, you ain’t thinkin’ ’bout no bag
if it ain’t no flght, then i ain’t thinkin’ ’bout no class
sn*tch it off the shelf, b*tch, i ain’t peepin’ at no tag

[verse 6: babytron]
(brrt, yeah)
if it’s paper on your head, gon’ bring the wood and turn you to a spliff
cursed with demons, but i’m in the field, i turned it to a gift
when i’m gettin’ off, it’s not like you, ain’t workin’ on the shift
i’m the type to up a pole, you the type be runnin’ home
you the type to spend some cash, i bet i pull up, punch the store
unky in the kitchen with more babies than an orphanage
you ain’t get your glasses from a buffalo, them porcelain
paul revere, pull up on the opps, i’m horsin’ ’em
[outro: babytron]
sh*ttyboyz, dog sh*t militia

- shittyboyz lyrics

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