ShittyBoyz, Jay Johnson Beats, JamesTooCold - City Boyz lyrics

(This is Jay Johnson production)
I'm the GOAT, I'll put it on ten Bibles
Ayy, ayy, ShittyBoyz

Put yo bitch in a spin cycle
I'm the GOAT, I'll put it on ten Bibles
Ain't no punches through this bitch
Doing ten titles
Walked in the store with one
Slide and got ten items

Scam Wiz, I don't think I need college
Stan balling, throw a triple-team on him
Flex like the Hulk
I ain't never read comics
Fucked up the web off the punches
Feel like Green Goblin

Ayy, bitch hit my phone for the BNB
Broke a whole four Mastercard
Call me "Master P"
Work week, hit it for the ten
Not thе fucking three
Fuck school, dark web taught me
How to write and rеad, nigga

Taught my rat how to punch
She ain't Master Splinter
She ain't have her eyebrows done so
I had to spin her
Paid two hunnid on what I had for dinner
Double G's on the slide so you
Know I tagged the slippers

Aquaman drip, I just got wet
Karate Kid, punching kicks off of StockX
Feel like we play in MyPark, how we got next
Made ten at the crack of dawn
I ain't got dressed

They knowing I'ma do a nigga foul
How I got TECs walk around like we verified
How we got checks
Told her we gon' bust her shit again
She ain't block yet
Cutter still hitting yet

Feel like One-Punch Man when I'm on the web
ShittyBoyz on top, yeah, we too ahead
Chopstick put you in a suit like a newlywed
Reaching over here? Ain't no thoughts
Going through his head

On the road high as hell like a monster truck
Ball too hard
Kawhi Leonard couldn't lock us up
Pop him dead in his shit if I pop the trunk
Throw 'bows like Dwayne Johnson, no
You can't rock with us

Rock with us? How you gon' do
It? Ain't no stocks with us
Glocks be tucked, come get yo bitch
She got overfucked
Load the car or yo bitch-ass
Gon' load the truck
You niggas suck, free five
Star, nigga, every lunch, ayy

Throw a punch at you? Dawg, I ain't Triple G
Swing the K on it
Turn yo block to the Middle East
Tron know they can't stop
Me with no triple-team he was talking spicy
Now his house where the missiles be

Foreign sneaks like I'm Messi
Fuck the World Cup
Lord Beerus with this punch
Fuck the world up
Crank the meter to the max, I'ma turn up
Ball like I'm Harden, got the sauce
Watch me stir up

Ayy, she gon' fuck the kid for a new wig
I just hopped up off the plane
And bought the whole kit
Bitch, you can't hang with us
You ain't know shit
Ayy, feeling like Sub-Zero with
The cold kicks, nigga

I ain't walk through a gallery
These the Margielas
My bitch was tripping with the
Drip 'fore she know Ella
You can't ball on my team
Should've knew better
Summertime, still paying five for
A new sweater

Broke? You got the opps mixed up with me
Feel like Criss Angel
Got some shit up my sleeve
Scammed the hoop coach and got
Kicked off the team fuck college, boy
I been had the shit talk degree