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simba - simdog lyrics

[intro]
ruga! house team! simdog!
hit squad! gang gang! aye
young n-gg- i go to hardees
young n-gg- i go to hardees
my flow is so flawless
simdog! simdog!

[verse]
young n-gg- i go to hardees
n-gg- try to run up he must be r-t-rded
glock 23 and i filled it with hollows
let the boy fake bet he won’t see tomorrow
got my own style these n-gg-s just borrow
i was 14 with 16 in my cargos
got a new smith it’s gon’ grill like some charcoal
your mother keep crying in sorrow
ain’t no half stepping you know i can’t let up
opps keep on dying i tell em to rest up
my boo a doctor keep giving me check ups
f-ck you and your gang i rep now and swipe next up
loyalty rules i can’t f-ck with a snake
opps keep on running they f-cking first place
tied in omerta can’t f-ck with the jakes
was at the bottom came up off the weight
might just catch a body say f-ck it
whenever i shoot that’s a bucket
they say i can’t do it i does it
i’m on the corner like coverage
n-gg-s gon hate b-tches love it
she kissed my d-ck and she rub it
whenever i’m with her she blushes
i get in that p-ssy and crush it
all my n-gg-s go hard like jabar
if you ain’t down to ride get the f-ck up out the car
started doin’ numbers now i know that i’m a star
but never would have thought that i would go this far
chill n-gg- but the clip real long
no free features neutrals just for a song
had to get my mind right
was busy doing wrong
in the trenches with gorillas
all i knew was king kong
i flock and i rock and i pop him
snitchin’ no opps and don’t ask me who shot him
i was down north georgetown a n-gg- jih likin
stopped by and start drillin’ start jockin’
ruga got the george for the low
and we got the hats got the skis got the clothes
and we got the racks got the straps at the shows
tell em come shop cause your boy is bout to blow
f-ck n-gg-s can’t hit my dough
half of these n-gg-s don’t want no smoke
make him k!ll himself hang his head by a rope
you wasn’t talking money i had to tell that n-gg- no
said she ain’t a thot but i can tell that she a hoe
play with o’s just to stack up the dough
they don’t know how a b-tch too slow
my shooter don’t miss so that’s three in a row
tic tac toe click clack whoa
put a opp n-gg- in a sit back oh
call pablo he gon ship that co
i be anywhere but the grove where i post
in the crease bout to pop out like toes
all hail to the ruga lets toast
more money more weed more guns less hoes
catch a opp n-gg- lights out lets go

- simba lyrics

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