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big trippin' - stanwill lyrics

[intro]
yeah
aye, aye

[verse]
b*tch said, “this ain’t what i’m used to”
tool on me, i’ll hit a n*gga in his loose screw
i’m connected every f*cking where like some bluetooth
yeah, yeah
only use my hands to grab the pistol if it’s confrontation
brodie out his sh*t, he specialize in turning opps to patients
cut into the waitress like my b*tch like her lobster [?]
tron high as h*ll, all he do is roll up za and face it
bl!cky poking out the skinny jeans, you see the pistol print
wouldn’t waste a bullet on this chump, got him pistol whipped
wake up and throw my tech on and i ain’t quit my shift
if shе point at it, i grab it off the shelf ’cause my b*tch thе sh*t
like i know you sick that you missed yo lyft
dirty*ass mcqueens on, that walk around with no [?]
i know you taste my d*ck a lil’ bit when you kiss yo b*tch
surfing on the web with a punch knowing this gon’ hit
i’m a swiper and a scammer
i think i’m from ragnarok how i’m riding with the hammer
if you catch me in the store, just know i’m sliding with them jamemrs
she said i’m like teanna trump, how she slobbing it on camera
aye, you could probably jump in the ocean, you couldn’t drip like me
even if you untie yo shoes, couldn’t trip like me
you could have the f*cking bubble guts, couldn’t sh*t like me
yo b*tch gon’ choose ’cause she know you ain’t sh*t like me
i check*out and do my giffy dance
wouldn’t even square up with a opp if i had fifty hands
riding ’round with them racks out, think i’m the titty man
babytron really up some sh*t, you know jimmy scam
yeah, you know jimmy scam, n*gga
b*tch, aye
yeah, i could up a fifty on a * ’cause i really can
riding ’round with that f*cker out, quick to burn a n*gga
unc’ running ’round with that *, quick to serve a n*gga
b*tch boujee like, nah, for real, quick to curve a n*gga
gang need to tires for the [?] he keep swerving n*ggas
b*tch reaching for the mag, might f*ck around and blow her ass
really just f*cked off the name, didn’t even know her ass
really at the strip for lamb chops but i’ll throw some cash
they like, “stan, you the goat”
you*a hesitate to spend a band, boy, you broke
boy, you really safer than a b*tch like you don’t stink
b*tch came with a lil’ friend, i like ’em both
but dee the freaky one
if you talking ’bout a mag, just know i keep me one
if you talking ’bout a bag, just know i be in one
but you ain’t really talking ’bout sh*t, boy, you ain’t seen a crumb
tripping up at neiman marcus, pulling out the racks and sh*t
my b*tch want dior and alexander, she don’t ask for d*ck
what the f*ck? there go the boys, bro, stash the bl!ck

- stanwill lyrics

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