SCY Jimm – Trios

SCY Jimm – Trios Lyrics

Artist: SCY Jimm
Song: Trios

[Steven, what are you doing in there?
[Mhm, [? 0:05], you gotta chill out
Phew
Ran off on the vato, he put cheese on my taco

Might try to wet me up, so I don’t leave home without the poncho [Go, go
Asian plug hit my phone like, “I got those” [I got those
Dropped him off, but sh#t, he never came and got those [He never came and got those]
Ayy, 7.62, 5.7, we got all that [Huh?

n#gg# better duck when he see me in that all-black [Grrlaow, grrlaow
Criss Angel stick, whip it out, he gon’ go poof [Ayy, yeah
I ain’t never met Lil Yachty, I bе shootin’ out the roof
He be shootin’ out thе roof, turned yo’ truck into a coupe

Ask me why I’m acting lazy, filled my soda with a deuce [Ah
p#ss# say he want smoke, I’m on all that
Feeling just like Beanie, I’ma beat you with a ball bat
Beat it in the pot like Michael, this that thriller dope

If I keep flipping and flipping, I’ll get a chinchilla coat
I can get you rich, if you snitch, catch a headstone
Why they call you Money Gang Cue? ‘Cause my bread long
Different color pills, huh, ain’t talkin’ Flintstones

Say that you a killer, but ain’t spinnin’ ’bout your dead dawgs
Play with one of my n#gg#s, bet this Drakie knock your edge off
I’ma pop another Perc’ [For what?], uh, to take the edge off
I don’t gotta wear no Crocs, my face gator as a b#tch [Ayy, ayy

Think I’m toting a Nintendo how that Glock got a switch [Grrlaow, grrlaow
Ayy, ayy, and I’m ’bout my money like I’m Mitch, ayy [Like I’m Mitch, n#gg#
That fire made this biggest n#gg# scream like a b#tch [Grrlaow, grrlaow, ayy
f#ck a cop, n#gg# [Huh?], f#ck a opp, n#gg# [Ayy, ayy

Know I’m tryna slide as soon as I get the drop, n#gg# [Ayy
Big sticks with me, ayy [Yeah], these ain’t props, n#gg# [Nah
Bro be off that gas, all he tryna do is pop n#gg#s [Glah]
White boy Scooby-Doo van, they got binoculars

Selling all the candy in the city, Willy Wonker
Your baby daddy an actor, gon’ get that boy an Oscar
Dopeboy, big birds, got ’em grouchy like Oscar
I done sowed this b#tch up like a tailor-made suit

Benz coupe lost the roof, you can call me Q
I got the juice, small forward in the paint, but I’ll shoot
Paul Pierce, I’m the truth, me and yo’ b#tch is in cahoots
Huh, p#ss# so wet, I just dived in and drowned

p#ss#, we are not the same, I be smokin’ out the pound
You won’t catch me f#cking off, I be trickin’ out of town
I’ma knock the p#ss# out, we can go a couple rounds
If I come and visit, baby, don’t wear nothin’ but a T-shirt

Your baby daddy ain’t a player, he be chillin’ in the bleachers
All this talking on the beat got me feelin’ like a preacher
If that b#tch don’t lick the dick, best believe that I’ma leave her
Best believe that I’ma leave her, uh

If that b#tch don’t lick this dick, I’m gon’ leave her #ss right out the room
Right out the room, ah, ain’t no forty dollars, b#tch, call the Uber
Huh, bye
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SCY Jimm Lyrics – Trios

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Release Year: 2021