StanWill - Scoreboard lyrics

One, two, three, four giffies outta Speedway
Five, six, seven Scats racing up the freeway
Eight, nine bands off the scams
 it was free pape'
Ten fucking hoes on my dick, bitch
I need space yeah, boy
You better tuck yo bitch
'fore we three-way her for that cheddar
Throw more holes at him than a cheese grater
You'll never catch my hands out
I don't need favors
Only thing gang know is shoot
He gon' think later

Elevation come from separation
I ain't near these niggas
Painting pictures like I'm van Gogh
Don't wanna hear these niggas
Thousand dollar rips, boy
What you know about Amiri denim?
In the hood, hold on, let me clеar my system
In the hood, we spark his ass up
Hе think he plugged in
Only got the head up off yo bitch
I only fuck tens
Funny how if you don't reach no cover
You get tucked in
Looking through my database
I think I got enough BINs
When the critics label me the GOAT
Is when I give it up
Yo nigga window shopping at the set, bitch
He ain't spend a buck
SB, T double H-L, you ain't kin to us
When I get rich
The next goal gon' be rich as fuck
Ha ha, yeah, that's not far though
Fuck around and shoot him like I'm Logan
I'll spark bro future bright as hell but I
Always had a dark soul
They just getting hip
I always knew that I was part GOAT
I'm worried 'bout the scoreboard
You looking at the shot clock
All these thirty round ARs, this a chop shop
I could fuck the hoes but
The pape' always cock-block
Lil' bro'll lay down in yo bushes
Don't get drop shot
Gang jumping out with Gen5s
We let Glocks pop
Posted up on niggas' cross streets
We playing opp watch
If it's up, boy, this shit forever
We do not squash turbans on, Drac'd up
He better pray to Allah
Ain't no midget 'round when I
Say the 45 by me
Road tripping, hitting every store
Fucking slide out it stepping in this bitch
Might fuck around and break the tile out it
Enterprise rental
Know I'm getting every mile out it
Ex bitch fucked up thinking that I need hoes
Water, air, and pape', bitch
I really only need those
Whole gang touching dog shit, bitch
We team goals
Fucking off the boy, you cuffing fiend hoes
Looking like a blessing, when she see me
She gon' make a wish
Balling out the gym for every time
I couldn't make a swish
Setting plays up for that roll
Bro gon' make the pick dog hoes
I'll chase my tail 'fore I chase a bitch

One, two, three, four giffies outta Speedway
Five, six, seven Scats racing up the freeway
Eight, nine bands off the scams
It was free pape'
Ten fucking hoes on my dick, bitch
I need space yeah, boy
You better tuck yo bitch
'fore we three-way her for that cheddar
Throw more holes at him than a cheese grater
You'll never catch my hands out
I don't need favors
Only thing gang know is shoot
He gon' think later