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stanwill - on i94 lyrics

[intro]
ooh, sh+t, that’s a danny g beat
uh+huh, uh, uh+huh (brrt, brrt), ayy, uh, yeah (whew, whew, whew, whew)

[verse]
i’m on ’94, in a ’55, doing double that
catch the opps moncler and pop him like some bubble wrap
if i hand it off to gang, i know he won’t fumble that
what he tossing in the club, i know i can double that
nah, i can’t triple that, tah, uh
i should start detention, all my b+tches bad
louis v duffel like a toilet, got some sh+t in that
i ain’t got no mo’f+cking balance, b+tch, i trip in saks
i’ll tell a b+tch it’s that
anytime i look into a mirror, b+tch, i see the sh+t
counting blues while your b+tch blew me, i must be a crip
glocky tuck in on my mike amiri’s, know you see the bl!ck
funny if that b+tch ain’t eating d+ck, i tell her, “eat a d+ck”
he ain’t your mans, he on split poles
back+to+back rounds with this b+tch left my d+ck swole
ain’t no zippies ’round, ganger smoking off the big ‘bow
looking like a hobo in these thousand+dollar ripped clothes
only hit the coldest b+tches
i don’t even gotta pop my sh+t, the b+tches know who winning
hitman’ll clean the scene up, you won’t know who did it
add, we can’t sit still, we in motion with it
yeah, got another bl!ck next to me
ganger rich, babytron counting sh+t next to me
you ain’t sbdsm, you can’t sit next to me
i ain’t hit your b+tch, boy, i got big neck, dummy
speaking out his neck, .223’s left his chest open
closet like a ocean, i step in and get to br++ststroking
he ain’t really tough, he just be acting like he seth rollins
shooter think he virgil, catch a opp and put a x on it
closet full of letters like i’m tryna learn the alphabet
funny how the fendi’s match the grade i got in calculus
unky pouring potions in the lab, he like a alchemist
set the bullies him, all my dawgs be on some alpha sh+t
.40 on me, i could make the honor roll
when these n+ggas take the shift, the only time they got a rose
he can make a f+cking milli’, long as unky got a stove
all these tees, all these cannons, looking like i’m ’bout to pose
huh, brodie move a xan, he don’t know jake
did the dash in the newest bronco, feel like o.j
b+tch sent a paragraph, i replied with, “okay”
getting fast money, couldn’t do this sh+t the slow way
huh, i like b+tches who like b+tches
waving sticks, the wind making wishes with these b+tches
need to go to church ’cause i be sinning in my christian’s
guarantee that any shot you missing, i can swish it
all i hit is cold sh+t
should i use my skymile or should i road trip?
should i drop another chain or do the froze wrist?
in miami, hitting cold b+tches, getting homesick, huh
gang came crocs, had to do the foam runners
we ain’t stripping through this b+tch, but all my babies pole clutchers
i’m a jackrabbit, sh+t talking, pretty ho f+cker
never had a job interview, had one on no jumper
huh, this the sh+tty season
they like, “stan, when you finna drop?” i know the city need it
boy, don’t up that ten+piece nugget, i can fifty+piece it
b+tches phony, through the tinted buffies, i can really see it
thinking, why the f+ck i got knuckles? i am not a fighter
gucci sweater on my body, this a lion, not a tiger
201 benz scorching, i could slide and start a fire
say it’s up with gang and them, i bet you i can take it higher
[outro]
b+tch, sh+ttyboyz, dog sh+t militia, that’s on every song, whew, yeah

- stanwill lyrics

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