Butter - Sneaky Link lyrics

Yeah

Yeah I heard y’all call for some heat

We’ll let’s light this bitch up

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Can you keep it on the hush hush
That real low

Silent and deadly, I shoot low blows

Cuffed ain’t the angle, I’m mingling

I’m the real show, flow like poison
Little widow

X on my back
My shooter got the strap if you coming behind
Niggas get blown back

Search party, put them in the box like Joe

Flow so sick, I had to let these niggas know

Lame ass niggas always trying to
Get a hug from me

Bringing out the Love in me, Quinn
So it’s time to get the Glock
From above on me

(get the Glock, from above on me)

I ain’t your girl, we meet
Up on the weekends, you tweaking
Got my name up in your mouth
Please have a seat man

I don't even know your last name
You trying to ride the wave
You trying to buckle up
How about shut the fuck up?

Sweat pants, hair tied
Chilling with no make up on
That’s when I can take your nigga
Hope that you don't take it wrong
The best he ever had
Still mad he ain’t get to bone
Crocs in drive, on the run
I gotta make it home

Won't give him any, so he tripping

Childish ass niggas, I sit pretty
Get attention

Big billboards with my name on it

Dating older men, Wolfsbane on him

Lost me on my way to the top
Real heavy gravity, I can’t stop

Won’t stop, get dropped

Pop, pop, pop said my little old Glock

You in shock, a little pretty gem, no flocks

Standing by the stage, little groupie

You trivial as fuck, thinking that a rich
Nigga gonna put you on the up’s
Like do that nigga really even give a fuck?

(even give a fuck?)

I ain’t your girl, we meet
Up on the weekends
You tweaking, got my name up in your mouth
Please have a seat man

I don’t even know your last name
You trying to
Ride the wave, you trying to buckle up
How about shut the fuck up?

How about shut the fuck up

How about shut the fuck up

How about shut the fuck up

Yeah, yeah

Sweat pants, hair tied
Chilling with no make up
On, that’s when I can take your nigga
Hope that you don’t take
It wrong, the best he ever had
Still mad he ain’t
Get to bone, Crocs in drive, on the run
I gotta make it home

I fell in love with my sneaky link

That’s all this is, got you feeling like
We in sync we Apryl n’ Omarion
Cause he Lil Fizz

Copped his best friend
I know I made him hurt

Niggas feeling real Burnt, it’s getting
Me real felling real turnt
Walk it Like I talk it

Now it’s time to let me go
All that char on his ego
Shit his breath stink like Fritos

Eat you up and spit you out, shit you
Know what I’m about, tip you over
Pour you out

Man eater, fuck that I'm a band eater

1000’s on my wrist, never trust a bitch
Switch
It up real quick, only seeing blue strips
Bitch