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scy jimm - trios lyrics

[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

- scy jimm lyrics

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