Big Tymerz lyrics

[Intro]

Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? Damn

Skrt

No Hooks Part 2 in this bitch, you know how I'm rockin', nigga

Get your guns up, get your funds up

You on that opp shit, get mop sticked, bitch

Skrt, skrt

Aye, aye, aye

[Verse]

Your bitch is a gunner

Ride foreigns in the summer

Pop pills, smoke weed

I'm the plug with the drugs, I got what you need

Big rims on trucks

Ran off on the plug, yeah, he out of luck

8 doors, shut the lights

I done dodged fast cars, yeah, I'm runnin' lights

High speed, Hellcat

Hell nah, hella nah, ain't no catchin' that

Fuck your bitch from the back

Hell nah, I don't want her, you can have her back

Forgiatos mounted up

Check a big bag of money, then I count it up

Homicides, zip 'em up

He ain't breathin', tell the coroners come and pick him up

Pull up, slide doors

Blue strips, open doors

Designer drugs, designer clothes

Designer hoes, designer poles

New whips, pigeon toe

New ice, rose gold

New price, show sold

Bankrolls don't fold

Rocks, blows, we sell those

So strong, make a junkie head explode

Water whippin', I broke the stove

Now I got dope residue all on my clothes

Red bottoms, Gucci shoes

We rock Louis too

You a killer, April Fools

Nigga, get this shit confused, you gon' make the news

Dealerships, foreign whips

Cash out, poker chips

Thick bitch, mean walk

Yellow tape, red tape and white chalk

These niggas all talk

Hit the mall fuck it off, forgot what I brought

These niggas throw salt

They just mad 'cause they broke, ain't my fault

Follow the trails, I'm drippin' sauce

Leg hangin' out the car 'cause my doors off

He off lean, he dozed off

He ain't see me comin' with that Mossberg sawed off

Poppin' pills, let me be great

Got a bad bitch and she on Section 8

Pappadeaux and steak

Tipped the waitress a hundred, told her bring my plate

Presidential, Obama

Nah, not the president, I'm talkin' marijuana

My eyes low off, I'm high off ganja

Dark shades, I can't see you, call me Stevie Wonder

In the strip club, throwin' ones

We just snuck in with all our guns

I'm standin' on the bar, showin' out

These Gucci shoes ain't comin' out

Donuts, burn outs

Nascar, fast car, watch the engine 'bout

See a lame, point him out

My homie tweakin' off the shit, he'll knock 'em out

Your time is runnin' out

We'll turn a nigga house to a haunted house

I get it by the large amout

I hit my plug for the drugs if I'm runnin' out

• Artist:Lud Foe
• Album:No Hooks 2 (2017)