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shittyboyz - rob dyrdek lyrics

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[intro: stanwill]
25/8, huh, 25/8, on my grind like i’m dyrdek
godd+mn, huh
yeah, b+tch

[verse 1: stanwill]
25/8, on my grind like i’m dyrdek
balling up his fist? doggy bone must not fear death
cut the traction off and punch the gas while i steer left
can’t hear you, got some dog sh+t where my ear at
off+white hoodie with the scribble like it’s art class
she ain’t got no morals, she gon’ f+ck me ’cause my car fast

[verse 2: babytron]
used to be black, now it’s chrome where my heart at
wild rum, lemon pound cake, i’m where the stars at
medusa on the drawers, b+tch, these ain’t polo boxеrs
today is crab legs and steak, i don’t want no lobster
downtown for somе sbs, i’m a nojo shopper
talking ’bout the mafia and you don’t even know no mobsters

[verse 3: trdee]
we don’t save hoes, this ain’t the justice league
stan’ll really set the play, i call him “andy reid”
b+tch think i’m leaving when we done, i said i am indeed
gang on the block sending shots like [?]
l’s make a champ, i shrug my shoulders if i take a loss
hope yo b+tch don’t throw the p+ssy ’cause i turn to randy moss
[verse 4: stanwill]
got ’em thinking i’m a f+cking dentist, how yo baby floss
ksubis stuffed with benjis and the bl!cky, this the crazy walk
she don’t even know yo baby, she just wanna blow yo baby
n+ggas quick to say it’s smoke with us but they don’t want no eighthy
we just did nojo crazy, i can’t let no ho faze me
saying sbdsm ain’t sh+tting? he a bozo, ain’t he?
she gon’ f+ck ’cause my dior christian
i ain’t thinking ’bout no b+tches, i just want some more chicken
all yo baby know is run it up, i feel like forrest griffin
201 extraordinaire, i be in every store tripping

[verse 5: babytron]
bible on the dash, wocky in the glovebox
7.62s out the coupe’ll make a truck stop
eighthy and some ice caps, how the f+ck my lungs hot?
sh+ttyboyz but with this rap sh+t? we number one now
mike amiri sneakers, b+tch, i got bones on my toes
doing shows, used to go and beat up stores on the road
april 2020, it was pros after pros
exotic pop case touched down, pour another four
flying through the hood, treat a red light like it’s green
dream work in full effect, b+tch, ain’t no “i” in “team”

[verse 6: trdee]
i’ll leave a hole in a opp like a krispy kreme
want a bad b+tch to myself that they never seen
in love with the money, couldn’t [?] no [?]
crib out the way, front door got a ring
all gang wanna do is shoot, it’s like he play to win
she gon’ let me hit it ’cause she know i will not say a thing
if he send a shot, i bet it’s water like some aquafina
[?] had to wrap him up, he something like a pita
got cheese and i got some sauce, “dee just like a pizza”
hit it and i knocked it out the park, i feel like derek jeter



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