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puzzled - stanwill lyrics

[intro]
militia, that’s on every song
dog sh*t militia, that’s on every song
sh*ttyboyz, dog sh*t militia, that’s on every song
yeah

[verse]
summertime, we was pullin’ up in long sleeves
all my n*ggas rich, she tryna f*ck the whole team
if it ain’t ’bout no pape’, i’m finna watch the phone ring
be done shot the lips off his face, he say the wrong thing
heart cold, chain froze, had to drop the goose coat
puzzled in the coupe, i’m lookin’ up like where the roof go?
bro be scorin’, he a spot up shooter, he don’t hoop, though
played her like an instrumеnt, she blew me likе a flute, though
heat tucked, i turn miami beach to the ftx
ksubis saggin’ ’cause the pockets stuffed with a hefty check
pull up on your b*tch in fendi wear, i bet she f me next
you would be done passed through this b*tch, better not test me, neph’
mike amiris skinny than a b*tch with pistol pokin’ out
joke’s up, smoke him like some runtz and see who jokin’ now
i ain’t never voted in my life, but keep a pole around
bnb with three hoes on my b*lls, they think i’m bowlin’ now
bape zipped, i can’t see a d*mn thing
catchin’ ham after ham, b*tch, i’m on a scam page
you won’t catch me without bread, b*tch, i’m like some mayonnaise
unky said he stuck to the cut like a band*aid
huh, on the road, half sleep, got me missin’ x’s
step in big*ass sneaks, these some triple*s’s
glocky or the chop, i’m poppin’ out with different weapons
get a n*gga bubble blew, i bet he get the f*ckin’ message
r.i.p. virgil, it’s an x on me but it’s f*ck my ex
blow a hole through f*ckin’ brain let him touch my neck
we on collins ave, b*tches lookin’ at his jumpin’ bits
all scam season long, got sh*t stuffed in techs
fightin’ demons with a palm angel joggy on
b*tch, the scam jack not the phone you can call me on
pretty face but i’m still f*ckin’ doggy, though
take me to the er ’cause your baby sick of all these hoes
unc’ addicted, every day, it’s pop with the wock’ mix
say it’s on the floor then bro gon’ clean him with the mop stick
never been the type to cop a plea, i go and cop sticks
bape hoodie for seven but the gucci flops six
i’m too busy touchin’ pape’, you won’t see me in no party
gotta know i got the face if you see me with your darling
threw hibachi on my plate if you ever see me starvin’
keep a glocky on my waist ’cause n*ggas thinkin’ i’m a target
[outro]
yeah, sh*ttyboyz
(real sh*ttyboyz sh*t, she gon’ f*ck ’cause the sh*ttyboyz lit, dumbass)
(that’s what you gotta know)
(yeah, though)

- stanwill lyrics

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