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rick grimes - stanwill lyrics

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rick grimes lyrics
[intro]
tripping on this b*tch
(ayo, mark a)
yeah

[verse]
do him like he tony, .223’ll leave his face scarred
playing sn*tchies with yo life, you try and take ours
pull up on yo b*tch, the chally sounding like a race car
we ain’t tryna sign no rappers with these ars
every whip fast, every b*tch bad too
triple s step, this a big*ass shoe
skinny with a glock, get yo six pack blew
sbdsm, she gon’ f*ck my rich*ass crew
trap full of zombies, b*tch, i feel like rick grimes
throw him six out the .9 if he snitch like 6ix9ine
on my back it’s a x but i don’t really miss mines
he brick his shots to the hoes but, no cap, i swish mines
he was thinking ’bout my cheese, left him with a swiss mind
i ain’t gotta speak, she gon’ f*ck ’cause my kit shine
up a twenty on yo b*tch, left her with the big eyes
if it’s money, we gon’ rush to the pape’ like big time
sb to the motherf*cking dsm
how you want it? i could shoot the chop or come three fns
ben frank, andrew, and grant, them my three best friends
big balling, b*tch, throw me up on espn
playing with some pape’, playing with these b*tches’ hearts too
swimming in the deep, know you gotta keep a harpoon
everything free, gotta know that’s what the cards do
pull up over here? i bet the baby chop’ll [?]
b*tches tryna take it off ’cause they know i throw it on
pop him like a pill, we gon’ make him overdose
drop five at somerset, you would think i’m throwing fours
couple racks to my slatt then my slime blow his nose
if it’s pape’ then i’m rushing out the door
she pull up to this bnb? she gon’ f*ck me and the bros
this sh*t like a relay race, i be running with the pole
i might get a paper cut ’cause i be thumbing through the pros
ain’t gotta ask who i’m with ’cause it’s dog sh*t militia
i’m in atl tripping, left some dog sh*t in linux
free my pits in the pound, free my dawgs in the kennel
201s, msrs, boy, it’s all in this rental
don julio type of night, this the bottle talk
bougie motherf*cker, boy, my b*tch won’t say hi to y’all
bl!ck on my hip right now, i ain’t fighting y’all
i’m in saks looking through the off*white, finna buy it all
[outro]
yeah, real sh*ttyboyz sh*t
she gon’ f*ck ’cause the sh*ttyboyz lit
b*tch
what up, mark? (ayo, mark a)

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