a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

wrestlemania - stanwill lyrics

[verse]
sh*t, i’m ’bout fly as sp*ce
beef could start at 7:59, he gon’ die at 8
nah, for real, like i really put the “i” in fake
that don’t make sense ’cause i ain’t fake at all
yo b*tch could be a starting point guard, the way she play with b*lls
walk into the function fly as f*ck, feel like i’m taking off
booty poking trough that lululemon, told her take it off
danny g tripped on this b*tch, he should watch his step
n*ggas thinking all my drip fake ’cause it’s not on shelf
told this lil’ b*tch she useless, she ain’t got no l’s
sh*t, so am i, check the stats, i ain’t got no l’s
if i take a step in meijers, i’m evacuating giffies
glock got a drum, see a opp, evacuate the victim
cut into yo b*tch thеn she let me еvaluate them titties
how the f*ck he spent his last on pape and he ain’t make a penny?
like, looking at these hoes like this d*ck ain’t gon’ blow itself
huh, looking at the opp like the stick ain’t gon’ blow itself
hopped in the scat like the whip ain’t gon’ float itself
f*ck a job interview, got one from
aye, f*ck a job interview, got one from adam22
scam grandmothers, swipe cards, that’s what i tend to do
could’ve bought your lil’ impala, bought a tennis shoe
let him try to jump in the deep, bro putting fin to use
feel like shaka zulu, keep the stick, boy, i will pop yo noddle
if i ever tell bro draw the weapon, he is not gon’ doodle
nah, for real, like if he catch him out, he doing opp so futile
keep a toaster and i specialize in turning thots to strudels
got that f*cker on me in the sp*ceship like i’m baby yoda
looking at my b*tch like you can’t tell me that she ain’t the coldest
we’ll knock yo uncy out his socks, boy, we won’t play with otis
i don’t even know what rhyme with that sh*t, man, come on
squaring up with us, think common sense done left his cranium
sixty .233s, he thought this sh*t was wrestlemania
if i let my dawgs up out that cage, it ain’t no taming ’em
if i ain’t with my b*tch or ’round big beaver, i’m with gang and ’em
black*ass af1s on, i’m feeling dangerous
you could be the chain on my neck, couldn’t hang with us
aye, you could be the chain on my neck, couldn’t hang with us
think these n*ggas warm the bench a lot, they don’t play with us
hit wally’s with a punch, f*ck around, broke my wrist
want a real b*tch, oh, forgot that they don’t exist
i’ll throw a .762, let him throw a fist
all these f*cking scams i done did, i can’t go legit
pull up with yo mans, you gon’ have to say his eulogy
grabbed himself a spot in heaven reaching for my jewelry
we could probably build a f*cking house with all this toolery
acting bad in neimans, got kicked out for all my foolery

- stanwill lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular