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Trios - Scy jimm Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: S scy jimm | Published: 2024-29-09T01:14:50:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Trios - Scy jimm Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Trios - Scy jimm Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton S scy jimm. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak Trios - Scy jimm Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro: 386 pudge]
(steven, what are you doing in there?)
(mhm, [? 0:05], you gotta chill out)
phew

[verse 1: 386 pudge]
ran off on the vato, he put cheese on my taco
might try to wet me up, so i don’t leave home without the poncho (go, go)
asian plug hit my phone like, “i got those” (i got those)
dropped him off, but sh*t, he never came and got those (he never came and got those)
[verse 2: scy jimm]
ayy, 7.62, 5.7, we got all that (huh?)
n*gga better duck when he see me in that all*black (grrlaow, grrlaow)
criss angel stick, whip it out, he gon’ go poof (ayy, yeah)
i ain’t never met lil yachty, i bе shootin’ out the roof

[verse 3: 386 pudge]
he be shootin’ out thе roof, turned yo’ truck into a coupe
ask me why i’m acting lazy, filled my soda with a deuce (ah)
p*ssy say he want smoke, i’m on all that
feeling just like beanie, i’ma beat you with a ball bat

[verse 4: m.g. cue]
beat it in the pot like michael, this that thriller dope
if i keep flipping and flipping, i’ll get a chinchilla coat
i can get you rich, if you snitch, catch a headstone
why they call you money gang cue? ’cause my bread long
different color pills, huh, ain’t talkin’ flintstones
say that you a k!ller, but ain’t spinnin’ ’bout your dead dawgs
play with one of my n*ggas, bet this drakie knock your edge off
i’ma pop another perc’ (for what?), uh, to take the edge off

[verse 5: scy jimm]
i don’t gotta wear no crocs, my face gator as a b*tch (ayy, ayy)
think i’m toting a nintendo how that glock got a switch (grrlaow, grrlaow)
ayy, ayy, and i’m ’bout my money like i’m mitch, ayy (like i’m mitch, n*gga)
that fire made this biggest n*gga scream like a b*tch (grrlaow, grrlaow, ayy)
f*ck a cop, n*gga (huh?), f*ck a opp, n*gga (ayy, ayy)
know i’m tryna slide as soon as i get the drop, n*gga (ayy)
big sticks with me, ayy (yeah), these ain’t props, n*gga (nah)
bro be off that gas, all he tryna do is pop n*ggas (glah)
[verse 6: 386 pudge]
white boy scooby*doo van, they got binoculars
selling all the candy in the city, w*lly wonker
your baby daddy an actor, gon’ get that boy an oscar
dopeboy, big birds, got ’em grouchy like oscar
i done sowed this b*tch up like a tailor*made suit
benz coupe lost the roof, you can call me q
i got the juice, small forward in the paint, but i’ll shoot
paul pierce, i’m the truth, me and yo’ b*tch is in cahoots
huh, p*ssy so wet, i just dived in and drowned
p*ssy, we are not the same, i be smokin’ out the pound
you won’t catch me f*cking off, i be trickin’ out of town
i’ma knock the p*ssy out, we can go a couple rounds
if i come and visit, baby, don’t wear nothin’ but a t*shirt
your baby daddy ain’t a player, he be chillin’ in the bleachers
all this talking on the beat got me feelin’ like a preacher
if that b*tch don’t l!ck the d*ck, best believe that i’ma leave her

[outro: 386 pudge]
best believe that i’ma leave her, uh
if that b*tch don’t l!ck this d*ck, i’m gon’ leave her ass right out the room
right out the room, ah, ain’t no forty dollars, b*tch, call the uber
huh, bye

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