crunch time - stanwill lyrics
[intro]
with a b*tch that don’t know english, to the plug, i’m speakin’ spanish
(ooh, sh*t, that’s a danny g beat)
(d*mn, jakesand)
yeah
[chorus]
with a b*tch that don’t know english, to the plug, i’m speakin’ spanish
funny, if i get his drop, it’s bushes where my people planted
if i ever said it’s up, i just don’t see it landin’
have them k!llers swing his block while me and my b*tch swing in hammocks
nothin’ ’bout me ordinary, you would think i’m special needs
see him out of bounds and blow that whistle, gang some referees
i be with them stompers, all my babies speakin’ stepanese
b*tch can have a pulse, but that don’t make her no less dead to me
[verse]
i got ‘za by the ‘bow, i got top from his ho
gang and them some lockdowns, i bet they not finna score
i don’t box, i got pole, if they rock, we gon’ roll
i’m a lot of things, but somethin’ i cannot be is broke, hm
with a b*tch named taylor, finna f*ck it swift, huh
with them taco poppers, better duck his sh*t, huh
i don’t wanna k!ll him, i’ma f*ck his b*tch
b*tches know i’m mister get the head and get a sl*t dismissed
i be ballin’ in this b*tch like all i know is hoop
lil’ bro a walkin’ bucket, all he know is shoot
when you got it, watch how many people notice you
i dropped out of college, still’ll tell my fans to go to school
they like, “where militia at?” huh, sh*t
probably where some chicken at
playin’ with them pits, boy, you gon’ get attacked
catch him out and pop him, he need fix*a*flat
cut into a ho like, “b*tch, i want your intellect”
we could shoot off dribble or shoot off the triple*threat
i don’t understand him, he keep speakin’ indirect
pull some pape’ up out the stash, then i left it in the ‘set
he don’t get no buckets when it’s crunch time
am i touchin’ paper? do the sun shine?
be done touched his temple, let him touch mine
eat him up, the arp clip longer than a lunch line
with a b*tch that don’t know english, my drip came from overseas
she could be the baddest, don’t eat d*ck, then it’s a no for more
scope atop the bop, know it’s a switch when brodie blow from three
he ain’t battin’, cuddy keep that stick like all he know is swing
with a b*tch that don’t know english, pop out with that polish rifle
with them punches, i’m like money man, you know who hold the title
talkin’ to the mirror, i just know you got some gold inside you
funny i rock all this christian, i can’t even quote the bible
b*tch, dog sh*t militia
[chorus]
with a b*tch that don’t know english, to the plug, i’m speakin’ spanish
funny, if i get his drop, it’s bushes where my people planted
if i ever said it’s up, i just don’t see it landin’
have them k!llers swing his block while me and my b*tch swing in hammocks
nothin’ ’bout me ordinary, you would think i’m special needs
see him out of bounds and blow that whistle, gang some referees
i be with them stompers, all my babies speakin’ stepanese
b*tch can have a pulse, but that don’t make her no less dead to me
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