"Jackman" lyrics
It's Danny G, bitch
Ayy, ayy
Primo Beats on the track
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Real Jack Man, twenty-five Pros before ten
Real Scam Man, 25K off four BINs
Before the Vlone I was walking 'round with no friends
I'ma get that shit from yo bitch to curl my toes in
Feel like Waka Flocka, bitch did it with no hands
Won't fight shit, F&N'll do the chokeslam
Gave unkie that one shit, he did his coke dance
Dunking on yo bitch, Big Man, did it with both hands
How typical, you did SBAs and EDDs
Feeling like [?] in these 'Miris, twenty G's in me
Cheater and a liar, like, what the fuck she see in me?
Banker like Anita, keep it cool or we gon' bring the heat
Listen to yo bitch while she mad, she gon' speak the truth
Listen to a fucking Tron song 'cause I speak it too
I ain't say shit, up roll so I speak in blues
In Walmart, don't mind me, I'm sneaking through
A hundred TVs, a hundred jacks, it's been a great month
Doggy seen the beam, thought we hit him with a ray gun
They ain't seen my floaties when they through me and I came up
Closet full of Comme des and I ain't never played once
His fighting-ass dead, so are you if you try that shit
Got thirty on me in a dingy-ass Nike fit
When they hand the bag off, boy, you ain't got time to blitz
Granny said I'm bougie, nah, you know I never liked yo grits
I ball, you acting on the side, on some Spike Lee shit
If I add a bag on his head, they gon' minus him
If I times that by two, they're dividing him
Add doggy to the equation if he rides with him
"Tron takes trips to the equator, you can't fly with him"
They say shooters shoot, that shit crazy, mine's like the rim
Used to like the gym, now I'm on that one shit writing BINs
When I type it in, boy, it's hitting so I type again
Balling like De'Aaron Fox, bitches treat me like a king
Cut into this bitch like, "You better treat me like I'm meat"
Acting foul as hell in this tech, shit, I think I'm Sheik
Punch, punch, punch, punch, shit, I think I'm Creed
You gon' lose yo everything, put your all into that bitch
Shoes usually cost a damn green, walk in foreign kicks
Ayy, ayy
Primo Beats on the track
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Real Jack Man, twenty-five Pros before ten
Real Scam Man, 25K off four BINs
Before the Vlone I was walking 'round with no friends
I'ma get that shit from yo bitch to curl my toes in
Feel like Waka Flocka, bitch did it with no hands
Won't fight shit, F&N'll do the chokeslam
Gave unkie that one shit, he did his coke dance
Dunking on yo bitch, Big Man, did it with both hands
How typical, you did SBAs and EDDs
Feeling like [?] in these 'Miris, twenty G's in me
Cheater and a liar, like, what the fuck she see in me?
Banker like Anita, keep it cool or we gon' bring the heat
Listen to yo bitch while she mad, she gon' speak the truth
Listen to a fucking Tron song 'cause I speak it too
I ain't say shit, up roll so I speak in blues
In Walmart, don't mind me, I'm sneaking through
A hundred TVs, a hundred jacks, it's been a great month
Doggy seen the beam, thought we hit him with a ray gun
They ain't seen my floaties when they through me and I came up
Closet full of Comme des and I ain't never played once
His fighting-ass dead, so are you if you try that shit
Got thirty on me in a dingy-ass Nike fit
When they hand the bag off, boy, you ain't got time to blitz
Granny said I'm bougie, nah, you know I never liked yo grits
I ball, you acting on the side, on some Spike Lee shit
If I add a bag on his head, they gon' minus him
If I times that by two, they're dividing him
Add doggy to the equation if he rides with him
"Tron takes trips to the equator, you can't fly with him"
They say shooters shoot, that shit crazy, mine's like the rim
Used to like the gym, now I'm on that one shit writing BINs
When I type it in, boy, it's hitting so I type again
Balling like De'Aaron Fox, bitches treat me like a king
Cut into this bitch like, "You better treat me like I'm meat"
Acting foul as hell in this tech, shit, I think I'm Sheik
Punch, punch, punch, punch, shit, I think I'm Creed
You gon' lose yo everything, put your all into that bitch
Shoes usually cost a damn green, walk in foreign kicks
Writer(s): James Edward Johnson, Daniel Sebastien Gaglio
