ShittyBoyz - Video Games lyrics
[ShittyBoyz - Video Games lyrics]
Wu Zi Mu
Unky buffed up walking 'round with stick
Apple orchard
Hit the crib with a thousand bricks
He ain't SBDSM? I promise he
Ain't 'round the clique
Big roll, broke a thumb tryna count this shit
See a red light and run through
It like it's San Andreas
So much shit in the Ksubi jeans
I think my pants an anus (Shit, fuck, damn)
Hundred rounder, I ain't have to aim it
We gon' pull up
Put you in a suit since your ass debating
Hot as hell in my wife beater, feel like CJ
No cap, we turned the tables like a DJ
PUA balling
Know you sick you blew that free pape'
Uncle's whip and then he had
To take a lean break
Tenpenny, Christian Loub's on me
Red and bluе
First night, quick to tell a bitch
"Put that head to use"
Doublе G's, LVs, I got X's too
Lil' brodie elegant
He finna swing the Lexus through
Finna complete the mission (Skrrt, skrrt)
Buffs on like Big Smoke, all I see is chicken
(Whew) riding 'round in that lowrider
I can't leave a witness (Brr)
Touchdown in Cali' by the Bay
All I see is bridges (Whew, whew)
We ain't even finished
Green on me like I'm repping Grove Street
Do you know you talking to a
Vet? You can't coach me
Stan came through in the clutch like Ginóbili
Insulated Crocs got me in the bank cozy
(yeah)
Bitch, I'm sticked up like Cranky Kong
Or I can tell Stan and get his Tom Brady on
(Fah-fah-fah-fah) made his whip stop
SBDSM, you know I cannot clique hop
Five hundred blues, that's a fifty ball
Lil' brodie out here going ape
Call him "Diddy Kong"
Only reason that he got away
I cut the switchy off
Seen doggy out and had him
Spooked with the shitty draws (Whew)
Zoom through, AMG with the paper tags
I done broke my neck looking
Down where the haters at
Looking like the Migos with this major bag
Hit the Turtle Pie
Bitch thought it was a eighth of crack
(Shit, fuck, damn, it's Luigi time)
Unky pouring Wocky up
You sipping on Luigi lines
Bitch gon' make it disappear
She on Houdini time
Boy, stop asking 'bout your bitch
She on my wee-wee, slime
Waluigi cup, red bottoms, they on Mario
(Whew) dropped the za off
Now everybody at the party blowed (Whew)
Alaskan King
Chilling in it with the Carti's on (Bling)
She'll never get a ring
You know I Charles Barkley hoes (Brr)
Big ass chopper, turn a nigga into King Boo
(Bow, a ghost?)
Pull up to your barbecue, tryna grill you
(Grrah) somewhere in the hills with a
Baddie in the rearview (Okay)
Finna treat her like my money
"Let me spread you" (Oh yeah)
(Sheesh, hey)
Pint forty-five hundred but the
Pop one dollar (Man, fuck that)
Pop one dollar but the
Pint forty-five hundred
Walk around, ten credit cards
I don't like thumbing (Bee boo)
Feel like Clank 'cause the bitch
That I'm with is ratchet
No cap, my money really longer than a bracket
Before twenty-one, gang been a savage
You ain't really in the field
You ain't really active
Big ass chop'll knock the melon off his neck
Palm Angels did the sneakers so
It's seven when I step
Think I'm lacking in my Nike? It's
A weapon in my tech
Acting tough online'll get you sent
To Heaven off the web (Okay)
Beat a rap nigga ass like it's Def Jam
I can see through these niggas like a CT scan
Got sticks like a camper, ain't no wrestling
I'm always with some money
It's my best friend
Bitch pulled up badder than a lil' kid
Scored a touchdown
Celebrating all on your field (Touchdown)
If you try to change the
Price then it's no deal
You can shoot your shot
You gon' miss it like you O'Neal
I'll turn a ten to a twenty
Thirty in the Glock
Why he got a double cup? Ain't
Nothing dirty in that pop
Bitch like when I'm blowing pape'
She getting flirty when I shop
Fell asleep with a model
Woke up early to some Wock'
(I'ma keep this shit a buck fifty)
They can't fuck with me
I don't want no rose gold
I be telling Hutch pissy
(Who the fuck is that?) I don't know
Let me clutch blicky
To the top, if you ain't DSM
You can't come with me
Pockets on Fat Joe
Fuck wrestling, I'll pull up tryna tag toes
Tryna add up the fit, bet your math wrong
You is not a starter, boy, your stats low
Trackhawking, pushing on the pedal
With some Track's on
Whether it's blicks or the drip
Gang can match chrome
Bust down bracelet off the watch
Got my hands froze
SBDSM ain't never made a bad song
Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz
You know what the fuck going on
Unky buffed up walking 'round with stick
Apple orchard
Hit the crib with a thousand bricks
He ain't SBDSM? I promise he
Ain't 'round the clique
Big roll, broke a thumb tryna count this shit
See a red light and run through
It like it's San Andreas
So much shit in the Ksubi jeans
I think my pants an anus (Shit, fuck, damn)
Hundred rounder, I ain't have to aim it
We gon' pull up
Put you in a suit since your ass debating
Hot as hell in my wife beater, feel like CJ
No cap, we turned the tables like a DJ
PUA balling
Know you sick you blew that free pape'
Uncle's whip and then he had
To take a lean break
Tenpenny, Christian Loub's on me
Red and bluе
First night, quick to tell a bitch
"Put that head to use"
Doublе G's, LVs, I got X's too
Lil' brodie elegant
He finna swing the Lexus through
Finna complete the mission (Skrrt, skrrt)
Buffs on like Big Smoke, all I see is chicken
(Whew) riding 'round in that lowrider
I can't leave a witness (Brr)
Touchdown in Cali' by the Bay
All I see is bridges (Whew, whew)
We ain't even finished
Green on me like I'm repping Grove Street
Do you know you talking to a
Vet? You can't coach me
Stan came through in the clutch like Ginóbili
Insulated Crocs got me in the bank cozy
(yeah)
Bitch, I'm sticked up like Cranky Kong
Or I can tell Stan and get his Tom Brady on
(Fah-fah-fah-fah) made his whip stop
SBDSM, you know I cannot clique hop
Five hundred blues, that's a fifty ball
Lil' brodie out here going ape
Call him "Diddy Kong"
Only reason that he got away
I cut the switchy off
Seen doggy out and had him
Spooked with the shitty draws (Whew)
Zoom through, AMG with the paper tags
I done broke my neck looking
Down where the haters at
Looking like the Migos with this major bag
Hit the Turtle Pie
Bitch thought it was a eighth of crack
(Shit, fuck, damn, it's Luigi time)
Unky pouring Wocky up
You sipping on Luigi lines
Bitch gon' make it disappear
She on Houdini time
Boy, stop asking 'bout your bitch
She on my wee-wee, slime
Waluigi cup, red bottoms, they on Mario
(Whew) dropped the za off
Now everybody at the party blowed (Whew)
Alaskan King
Chilling in it with the Carti's on (Bling)
She'll never get a ring
You know I Charles Barkley hoes (Brr)
Big ass chopper, turn a nigga into King Boo
(Bow, a ghost?)
Pull up to your barbecue, tryna grill you
(Grrah) somewhere in the hills with a
Baddie in the rearview (Okay)
Finna treat her like my money
"Let me spread you" (Oh yeah)
(Sheesh, hey)
Pint forty-five hundred but the
Pop one dollar (Man, fuck that)
Pop one dollar but the
Pint forty-five hundred
Walk around, ten credit cards
I don't like thumbing (Bee boo)
Feel like Clank 'cause the bitch
That I'm with is ratchet
No cap, my money really longer than a bracket
Before twenty-one, gang been a savage
You ain't really in the field
You ain't really active
Big ass chop'll knock the melon off his neck
Palm Angels did the sneakers so
It's seven when I step
Think I'm lacking in my Nike? It's
A weapon in my tech
Acting tough online'll get you sent
To Heaven off the web (Okay)
Beat a rap nigga ass like it's Def Jam
I can see through these niggas like a CT scan
Got sticks like a camper, ain't no wrestling
I'm always with some money
It's my best friend
Bitch pulled up badder than a lil' kid
Scored a touchdown
Celebrating all on your field (Touchdown)
If you try to change the
Price then it's no deal
You can shoot your shot
You gon' miss it like you O'Neal
I'll turn a ten to a twenty
Thirty in the Glock
Why he got a double cup? Ain't
Nothing dirty in that pop
Bitch like when I'm blowing pape'
She getting flirty when I shop
Fell asleep with a model
Woke up early to some Wock'
(I'ma keep this shit a buck fifty)
They can't fuck with me
I don't want no rose gold
I be telling Hutch pissy
(Who the fuck is that?) I don't know
Let me clutch blicky
To the top, if you ain't DSM
You can't come with me
Pockets on Fat Joe
Fuck wrestling, I'll pull up tryna tag toes
Tryna add up the fit, bet your math wrong
You is not a starter, boy, your stats low
Trackhawking, pushing on the pedal
With some Track's on
Whether it's blicks or the drip
Gang can match chrome
Bust down bracelet off the watch
Got my hands froze
SBDSM ain't never made a bad song
Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz
You know what the fuck going on