ShittyBoyz - Going Hyphy lyrics
[ShittyBoyz - Going Hyphy lyrics]
Bitch, whew (Damn, Glocky
You ain't have to do ’em like that)
(Slide on 'em Sheffon)
Doggy twelve, acting like the sheriff (Fed)
How I'm feelin’
I might go and catch a flight to Paris
(Fyoo) how I'm feelin'
I might spend like ninety on the chain
SBDSM, we trippin', going hyphy in the Bay
Throw it, that's a touchdown (Six)
Fuck a hundred
I was taught to keep it one thou'
(Thousand)
You got some nerve if I don't know you
Tryna come 'round
Swervin’ down the opps block
All they heard was gun sounds (Bow)
Like, shit, where you finna run? (Come here)
Like, shit, three-five got me feelin’ numb
(I'm blowed)
Like, shit, that’s light pape', boy
You still a bum (Crumb)
Like, shit, four years later, yeah
We still them ones (yeah)
Like, shit, boy
(yeah) , like shit (Brrt, shit)
Ha ha, like, shit (Shit)
Big Glockiana but the jeans tight fit (Amiri)
Sip Wockiana all night type shit (Whew)
Runnin' 'round throwing bullets at him
Mike Vick (Fah, fah)
You don’t wanna hit this 'Wood
This some opp pack
No, I don't care about that bitch
She a throwback (Whew)
Roll another 'Wood and forget about 'em
Crazy how I'm ridin' with the Drac'
And I came from the bottom (Frrt)
I can teach you how to do it, Gregg Popovich
Really demigods when we drop
We don't ever miss (Crazy)
Dawg was talkin' down
I went and hit his sis' (I did)
You not even cut to blow it
Why you got a blick? (Why?)
Five hundred dollar shirt, left the tag on
(Bought) we know that's not yo' shit
That's your mans roll
(That's your dogshit)
Deep pockets always stuffed with green
Like a egg roll if I say it's up
They on your top just like some headphones
(Ha, ha, ha, whew) six bitches in the room
It's a slumber party (Okay)
Dawg ain't even got a whip but
Went and got some Carti's (Huh?)
If I ever hit your bitch, my nigga
I ain't sorry (Nah)
She a freak, money make her wet like Kalahari
Shit, huh, okay
I might fuck around and start a tidal
Wave when I'm in Magic City
Tell the boys, "Come get me" do the race
We pull up Scat or Kitty
Bro be paranoid, he be done popped you
Catch you at the iffy
Bitch is simple-minded
Bet she fuck I show the stack of Benji's
Pulled up thinkin' we gon' fight? I'm
Laughing while I rack the semi
In the AMG, I'm active
You can't trip in traffic with me
Been workin' on a milli'
I ain't even see you stack a fifty
Matter fact, I ain't seen you stack a dub up
Wearin' all my ice like Vezzo
Finna fuck the club up
Got it out the dirt but unky
Still be pourin' mud up
Turtle Pie or Gary Payton
Brodie say "Hi!"s lungs stuck
SBDSM my babies, everything we do amazing
Had to tell the teller every bill
I want the bluest faces
Say it ain't no Wock' around
So unky poured a deuce of Quagen
All these fuckin' chains and
All these whips
You'd think my crew be slavin'
You ain't have to do ’em like that)
(Slide on 'em Sheffon)
Doggy twelve, acting like the sheriff (Fed)
How I'm feelin’
I might go and catch a flight to Paris
(Fyoo) how I'm feelin'
I might spend like ninety on the chain
SBDSM, we trippin', going hyphy in the Bay
Throw it, that's a touchdown (Six)
Fuck a hundred
I was taught to keep it one thou'
(Thousand)
You got some nerve if I don't know you
Tryna come 'round
Swervin’ down the opps block
All they heard was gun sounds (Bow)
Like, shit, where you finna run? (Come here)
Like, shit, three-five got me feelin’ numb
(I'm blowed)
Like, shit, that’s light pape', boy
You still a bum (Crumb)
Like, shit, four years later, yeah
We still them ones (yeah)
Like, shit, boy
(yeah) , like shit (Brrt, shit)
Ha ha, like, shit (Shit)
Big Glockiana but the jeans tight fit (Amiri)
Sip Wockiana all night type shit (Whew)
Runnin' 'round throwing bullets at him
Mike Vick (Fah, fah)
You don’t wanna hit this 'Wood
This some opp pack
No, I don't care about that bitch
She a throwback (Whew)
Roll another 'Wood and forget about 'em
Crazy how I'm ridin' with the Drac'
And I came from the bottom (Frrt)
I can teach you how to do it, Gregg Popovich
Really demigods when we drop
We don't ever miss (Crazy)
Dawg was talkin' down
I went and hit his sis' (I did)
You not even cut to blow it
Why you got a blick? (Why?)
Five hundred dollar shirt, left the tag on
(Bought) we know that's not yo' shit
That's your mans roll
(That's your dogshit)
Deep pockets always stuffed with green
Like a egg roll if I say it's up
They on your top just like some headphones
(Ha, ha, ha, whew) six bitches in the room
It's a slumber party (Okay)
Dawg ain't even got a whip but
Went and got some Carti's (Huh?)
If I ever hit your bitch, my nigga
I ain't sorry (Nah)
She a freak, money make her wet like Kalahari
Shit, huh, okay
I might fuck around and start a tidal
Wave when I'm in Magic City
Tell the boys, "Come get me" do the race
We pull up Scat or Kitty
Bro be paranoid, he be done popped you
Catch you at the iffy
Bitch is simple-minded
Bet she fuck I show the stack of Benji's
Pulled up thinkin' we gon' fight? I'm
Laughing while I rack the semi
In the AMG, I'm active
You can't trip in traffic with me
Been workin' on a milli'
I ain't even see you stack a fifty
Matter fact, I ain't seen you stack a dub up
Wearin' all my ice like Vezzo
Finna fuck the club up
Got it out the dirt but unky
Still be pourin' mud up
Turtle Pie or Gary Payton
Brodie say "Hi!"s lungs stuck
SBDSM my babies, everything we do amazing
Had to tell the teller every bill
I want the bluest faces
Say it ain't no Wock' around
So unky poured a deuce of Quagen
All these fuckin' chains and
All these whips
You'd think my crew be slavin'