StanWill - Him lyrics

[StanWill - Him lyrics]

Hey Blake, where you at? Wchew, ayyyy, bitch
If I'm in the, it's gon, it don't need no
Ayyyy, huh, okay

If I'm in the club it's gon rain
You don't need no weather app
All that shitty rapping ass
Come up with some better cap
You won't catch me with no rats
But I'm where the cheddar at
Your bitch safer over here
She know this where the steppers at
I couldn't fuck pre-Buffs
But I'm in her guts now
Said he had smoke with us?
Funny he some Runtz now
Empire sent the bag I ain't gotta punch now
(fraud)
Fine dining with my bitch $200 lunch now
(shit) got your bitch Bikini Bottoms
Wet as Goo Lagoon (fuck)


Know it's guala on the floor you
See me shoot a move (no cap)
Ksubi's stuffed with 20's I
Don't do the True's
Know some demons that was shooting opps
When you was shooting hoops
Huh, okay okay, huh (yeah)
Fly as hell bitches breaking necks looking up
(breaking necks)
I be scamming, Unky in the 'rex cookin up
(pew) new bitch she the shit
Seen my ex looking rough

Bitch, bitch, yeah yeah
You don't touch the pape I touch
You don't fuck the hoes I fuck
Big Dogshit Militia
I'm the biggest shitter out
You should know this shit

They know we up, yeah bitch, yeah
They know we up dogshit
Pushing up the Buffy's left
My middle finger frostbit
You won't never see me with no
Yorkie's all my dogs Pit's
Mr buy It All I blew a 20 on a mall trip
Tell the opps to call quit's
Tee by Off White, jeans Amiri, goose Canadian
Rich as fuck, designer head-wraps
The crew Arabian
AR Fully, telescope attached
Could shoot an alien
Fear of God, Dior Christian
I'm like "Who an Atheist?"
Every Glockiana got a switch we
Brought the fully's out
Show your bitch what's in my pocket
Bet she pull her goodies out
I ain't thinking bout my exes
Rock em on my hoodie now (Dogshit Militia
Gang gang bitch you know what
The fuck going on)
'Miris hold the Glock but the
Fanny full of dead faces
Your bitch got the wop
Only hit her cause the head crazy
Looking for his thot? Oh she somewhere
In my bed ain't she talking to the cops
Know you sick your baby Fed ain't he
(Fed ain't he?)

I'm proud, and I'd consider myself
A professional shitter
Which I, I think there's very few of
I'm sure there's some others out there
But, can you name one? Prolly not

Yeah, all of my bitches like fashion
My niggas like money my killas like shooting
When they with gang they
Be playing with balls
But none of these bitches be hooping
(haha no cap)
Tripping in traffic we active OT
Back to back all our vehicles ruthless
(skrrt, skrrt)
He bring his bitch to the club when gang
In the section he leaving it boo less (bye)
She know we playing with racks (yeah)
None of my niggas be cap (naw)
I blew a 20 in Saks (yeah)
None of these niggas get dapped (naw)
Walking out Turtle Pie Co
With bags of the gas my niggas be smacked
(yeah) why the fuck this bitch
Ask "What's my pronouns?"
She knowing I'm that (huh)
The AMG got 5%'s, the Buffy's got mirror I'm
Peeping through tints (damn)
It's funny he ain't got the flu but if
He catch a shot we leaving him sick (ahah)
All of your dogs just be barking
They ain't got no bite, i be with them Pit's
(ruff) dogshit Militia should be Cottonelle
They knowing we be with the shit's (gang)
These niggas ain't gang for real
I just want money, I been had the bitches
I don't give a fuck bout no fame for real
(I don't) could be a noose around neck
And no monkey bars you still
Couldn't hang for real
AR a fully, the scope got a variable zoom
You know we got range for real
(brrrt, brrrt, brrrt, bitch)

Dumbass nigga
Real Shittyboyz shit she gon fuck
Cause the Shittyboyz lit
But you already know that though
(already know that though)?
The biggest shitters (biggest shitters)

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