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luh tyler - gettin' fishy lyrics
[intro: luh tyler]
yeah, n_gga
ayy, n_gga, yeah
ayy, n_gga, rrr
(vince, pull up to the stu’, man)
[verse 1: luh tyler]
runnin’ them racks up, perfect timing
jump on the beat, get paid by rhyming
n_gga, they creep, watch how they sliming
lil’ goofy_ass n_gga went broke on diamonds
n_gga, when i step, my bros behind me
bro sip that drank, he turn to a zombie
just stack your paper, boy, just keep grindin’
we gon’ run the racks up, go see johnny
we gon’ run the racks up, n_gga, just sit back, stack, young n_gga gon’ get to the bag
brodie wake up, bust down in the trap, n_gga, ain’t no nap, gotta get off them bags
i be runnin’ laps on a n_gga while you in the house on the couch, n_gga, get off your ass
young n_gga jumped in the booth, no pen, no pad, n_ggas know i’m finna gas
young n_gga chasin’ them blues like nipsey
yeah, pop out, b_tch, i’m sticky
bro make n_ggas run just like they ricky (frrt)
bro in the cut with that switchy
this b_tch got ass on her just like nicki
lil’ b_tch give top, tell the ho, “don’t kiss me”
dump a bag on a cuban, don’t want no richy
these n_ggas be creep, man, sh_t gettin’ fishy (n_gga, yeah)
[verse 2: scy jimm]
ayy, freestyled this sh_t off the head
play with the gang, you dead
ayy, run up, send shots at your head
know you f_ck n_ggas heard what i said
i’m countin’ pink and blue money, but somehow still seein’ red
mmm, that boy went broke on a chain, ‘fore i go broke, i’m goin’ fed, n_gga
ayy, beat the the pot
these n_ggas flat, i keep a knot
keep that fire, these n_ggas plot
f_ck n_gga play, we lettin’ off shots
mmm, i can’t trust no thot
ice my wrist, they say i’m hot
ayy, cheese, we get a lot
they know i’m him, he mad he not
[verse 3: wizz havin]
ayy, i’m supposed to be in the stu’, but i’m in here beatin’ the pot
yeah, talkin’ cheese, we get a lot
stackin’ it, i let it rot (n_gga)
n_gga be workin’ with cops (f_ck)
these hoes be f_ckin’ the opps (d_mn)
you broke and workin’ the clock
you don’t even know how to serve no rocks, n_gga
every day i wake up, n_gga, i’m beatin’ the block down (for sure)
country boy comin’ from georgia, he finna score like five pounds
n_gga play up in this b_tch, i up this fire, hit five rounds
free my n_gga true, he finna jump, he in that countdown
[verse 4: luh tyler]
take your b_tch to pound town, we headed to the top, can’t hit the ground
these n_ggas be broke, they dumb, they clowns
my n_ggas step out, drip water, don’t drown
bro jump in the trap, he gettin’ off pounds
you ain’t tryna get a bag, get your ass from ’round
when you hear that, “frrt,” tell a b_tch get down
lil’ b_tch, i’m the king, don’t need no crown
n_gga, yeah, ayy, get that money, look out for my brother, b_tch
n_ggas, they know what it is
go get that bag, stand on that biz
these n_ggas cap, they work at lids
i got your lil’ b_tch doin’ tricks
i’m chasin’ that bag, don’t chase no b_tch
let’s get in that mode, b_tch, i’m finna glitch
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