ShittyBoyz – Skippin States Lyrics

Album on 3 Man Weave

Track 15 on 3 Man Weave
Skippin States Lyrics
[Intro: StanWill]
(The Don)
Whew, huh

[Verse 1: StanWill]
I had to teach myself ain’t nothin’ fair in live
Skinny-ass Amiris only time you catch me wearin’ Mikes
Bitch, Dog Shit Militia (Jxckk just want a drink)
If I see you with a rat, then y’all a pair of mice
Doggy said it’s up, I hope that he don’t think I’m scared of heights
Told your ho to give me space, bitch, I’m a terabyte
Funny I done made his boo go ghost, we had a scary night
Shit, it get spooky fast
Cuddy quick to pop an opp, the same shit that I do to tags
In that AMG, like BabyTron, I’m Mr. Do the Dash
Be done blew the brain up out a nigga, leave him stupid fast
I might lose faith in a ho, but you know I’ll never lose the bag
Huh, no cap

[Verse 2: TrDee]
It was niggas prayin’ on our downfall, I know they broke as
fuck and mad (Where your money at?)
Watch when you ballin’, niggas try to hack you
If my mans ever down, just know I’ma spot you
Niggas irritatin’, like a pimple, I’ma pop you
You know the world really yours, ain’t nobody got you
Whip came from America, my bitch foreign
I could have five fouls, I’ma keep scorin’
If she ain’t got the two-hand twist, that bitch boring
My coat Moncler, it used to be Ralph Lauren
We gon’ smoke him like a ‘Wood if it’s ever problems
All shooters in the hood, ain’t nobody doctors
Lame bitches got broke niggas on they roster
Old ho call my phone, my bitch made me block her
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[Verse 3: BabyTron]
Your bitch made you call eleven times while she made me lobster
Call up bro to call lil’ neph’, yeah, them my baby stompers
I be blowin’ out the ‘bow, I ain’t an eighthie shopper
Speakin’ of the eighthies, if I sell one, that bitch eighty dollars
Pulled up in 4A1, shot him with the lengthy chopper
That lil’ ho was actin’ tough until my lady popped her
You don’t really wanna take it, you a shaky robber
Lil’ bougie cold, bitch, I threw the Dior blankie on her
If I slide down and miss, then I’m spinnin’ right back
Told that rat don’t even try to pack a spend-the-night bag
Ironic that I’m up in Saks Fifth to give ’em five racks
She see me in the bus, black sticks, won’t get your wife back

[Verse 4: StanWill]
She see me in the bus, white sticks, gon’ get your ho took
I got killers with me, murder one the reason bro booked
Culinary with my opps, I pull up, get the lo’ cooked
Then I spin back like a chorus, but ain’t throwin’ no hooks
Salad in my Ksubis, pull up on her, get my pickle ate
High school, I was skippin’ class, now I’m tourin’, skippin’ states

[Verse 5: TrDee]
Your mans starving, how the fuck you ain’t give bro a plate?
I ain’t never lackin’, even got my Glocky on a date
Whole team shinin’ like the Pistons in ’04
Three hundred for a verse, I’ll give your ass a four
Why they put you in the game? You ain’t even score
I’m workin’ ’til my crib big enough to go on tour (Jxckk just want a drink)

[Verse 6: BabyTron]
Bitch tryna battle, I’ma stab her with my sword
Eatin’ crab inside a Porsche, you out here stabbin’ in a Ford
Drip dropper, you would think that I was standin’ in the storm
Thuggin’ out of town like still’ll make a palette on the floor (The Don)

[Outro: BabyTron]
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
Long live $cam