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shittyboyz - maroon 5 lyrics

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[intro: babytron]
nyah
sh+ttyboyz, dog sh+t militia

[verse 1: babytron]
bought the jeans yesterday, but sh+t, the shoes newer (ooh)
he up hundreds once a year, that boy a blue mooner (lame)
twenty hoes versus me, i ain’t a youtuber
when it come to l’s, i bounce back, you a boo+hooer (nyah)
you better warn the driver ’cause we shoot ubers
black trucks in manhattan, we ain’t never used scooters
big ten milli with the glitchie, you a deuce+deucer
zotti smellin’ like a litterbox, like where’s the p++p scooper?

actin’ like the brick man, at most, you probably sell weed (man)
if we got fl!cked right now, you’d probably tell on me
what i mean is if i pull over, it’s probably felonies
how the f+ck my shooter ain’t on billboard, all these hits he got?
he just met the juice man and cop, that’s a risky pop
went from rock bottom underground to the tippy top (top)
ball hog with the chop, i’m takin’ sixty shots

[verse 2: trdee]
(brrt, fah+fah, frrt)
oh, you a funny guy (oh)
what is that, a .7? ain’t no way you gettin’ high
i be livin’ like a pilot, every day i’m gettin’ fly (fly)
i be with the head tappers, we ain’t shootin’ in the sky
real n+gga comin’ through, make some room
tron in this b+tch trippin’, talkin’ crazy off of shrooms (sh+t)
you can’t catch me in that bucket, push the pedal, it don’t zoom
gang and them just dropped a five, finna turn the sprite maroon (let’s go)
i don’t g+ngb+ng, sbdsm to the end (sh+ttyboyz)
really one of one like you might just get smacked, you call me twin
really him, no, i’m not them, so, b+tch, you better come correct (i’m him)
i’ll pull up ballin’ on you n+ggas, i don’t have to stretch (f+ck, ballin’)
i be standin’ on business, please don’t take it personal (ha, ha)
f+ck i look like battle rappin’ rappers? i ain’t arsonal (the f+ck?)
baby, i’ma keep it real with you, i ain’t perfect, though (i’m not)
you be bitter hatin’ on your own n+ggas on the low (for real?)
that sh+t weak (d+mn)
[verse 3: stanwill]
huh, b+tch, you know what time is, all i see is money lookin’ at my datejust
reachin’ for my rollie, end up like it, get your face bust
i’ll get your gang touched, i’ll get your bae f+cked
don’t invite no b+tches to this tele if they ain’t sl+ts
fifth generation glock, i’ll end his bloodline
b+tch, i’m chasin’ money every single day the sun shine
think we shadow boxin’ in the strip, we sendin’ ones flyin’
funds over fun, funny doggy pockets fun+sized
pull it out the bank to blow some money at the mall
could be nature valley, i ain’t crumbier than y’all
everybody scorin’, all my buddies get the ball

lumberjack your b+tch, i stuffed her tummy with some log
she be on my d+ck, she tryna suck me out my drawers
i don’t do no playin’, if you touch me, you get paused
get your b+tch, she keep on askin’, “do you love me?” i’m like, “naw”

[outro: stanwill]
huh, b+tch, dog sh+t militia



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