"Maroon 5" lyrics
(Nyah)
(ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia)
Bought the jeans yesterday, but shit, the shoes newer (Ooh)
He up hundreds once a year, that boy a blue mooner (Lame)
Twenty hoes versus me, I ain't a YouTuber
When it come to L's, I bounce back, you a boo-hooer (Nyah)
You better warn the driver 'cause we shoot Ubers
Black trucks in Manhattan, we ain't never used scooters
Big ten milli with the glitchie, you a deuce-deucer
Zotti smellin' like a litterbox, like where's the poop scooper?
Spent sixty-six on this Cuban, Yasiel Puig
Actin' like the brick man, at most, you probably sell weed (Man)
If we got flicked right now, you'd probably tell on me
What I mean is if I pull over, it's probably felonies
How the fuck my shooter ain't on Billboard, all these hits he got?
He just met the juice man and cop, that's a risky pop
Went from rock bottom underground to the tippy top
Ball hog with the chop, I'm takin' sixty shots
(Brrt, fah-fah, brrt)
Oh, you a funny guy
What is that, a .7? Ain't no way you gettin' high
I be livin' like a pilot, every day I'm gettin' fly
I be with the head tappers, we ain't shootin' in the sky
Real nigga comin' through, make some room
Tron in this bitch trippin', talkin' crazy off of shrooms
You can't catch me in that bucket, push the pedal, it don't zoom
Gang and them just dropped a five, finna turn the Sprite maroon
I don't gangbang, SBDSM to the end
Really one of one like you might just get smacked, you call me twin
Really him, no, I'm not them, so, bitch, you better come correct
I'll pull up ballin' on you niggas, I don't have to stretch
I be standin' on business, please don't take it personal
Fuck I look like battle rappin' rappers? I ain't Arsonal
Baby, I'ma keep it real with you, I ain't perfect, though
You be bitter hatin' on your own niggas on the low (For real?)
That shit weak (Damn)
Bitch, you know what time is, all I see is money lookin' at my Datejust
Reachin' for my Rollie, end up like it, get your face bust
I'll get your gang touched, I'll get your bae fucked
Don't invite no bitches to this tele if they ain't sluts
Fifth generation Glock, I'll end his bloodline
Bitch, I'm chasin' money every single day the sun shine
Think we shadow boxin' in the strip, we sendin' ones flyin'
Funds over fun, funny doggy pockets fun-sized
Pull it out the bank to blow some money at the mall
Could be Nature Valley, I ain't crumbier than y'all
Everybody scorin', all my buddies get the ball
Bitch, I'm skrrtin' in the kitty, might catch Cuddy with some dog
Lumberjack your bitch, I stuffed her tummy with some log
She be on my dick, she tryna suck me out my drawers
I don't do no playin', if you touch me, you get paused
Get your bitch, she keep on askin', "Do you love me?" I'm like, "Naw"
(Bitch, Dog Shit Militia)
(ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia)
Bought the jeans yesterday, but shit, the shoes newer (Ooh)
He up hundreds once a year, that boy a blue mooner (Lame)
Twenty hoes versus me, I ain't a YouTuber
When it come to L's, I bounce back, you a boo-hooer (Nyah)
You better warn the driver 'cause we shoot Ubers
Black trucks in Manhattan, we ain't never used scooters
Big ten milli with the glitchie, you a deuce-deucer
Zotti smellin' like a litterbox, like where's the poop scooper?
Spent sixty-six on this Cuban, Yasiel Puig
Actin' like the brick man, at most, you probably sell weed (Man)
If we got flicked right now, you'd probably tell on me
What I mean is if I pull over, it's probably felonies
How the fuck my shooter ain't on Billboard, all these hits he got?
He just met the juice man and cop, that's a risky pop
Went from rock bottom underground to the tippy top
Ball hog with the chop, I'm takin' sixty shots
(Brrt, fah-fah, brrt)
Oh, you a funny guy
What is that, a .7? Ain't no way you gettin' high
I be livin' like a pilot, every day I'm gettin' fly
I be with the head tappers, we ain't shootin' in the sky
Real nigga comin' through, make some room
Tron in this bitch trippin', talkin' crazy off of shrooms
You can't catch me in that bucket, push the pedal, it don't zoom
Gang and them just dropped a five, finna turn the Sprite maroon
I don't gangbang, SBDSM to the end
Really one of one like you might just get smacked, you call me twin
Really him, no, I'm not them, so, bitch, you better come correct
I'll pull up ballin' on you niggas, I don't have to stretch
I be standin' on business, please don't take it personal
Fuck I look like battle rappin' rappers? I ain't Arsonal
Baby, I'ma keep it real with you, I ain't perfect, though
You be bitter hatin' on your own niggas on the low (For real?)
That shit weak (Damn)
Bitch, you know what time is, all I see is money lookin' at my Datejust
Reachin' for my Rollie, end up like it, get your face bust
I'll get your gang touched, I'll get your bae fucked
Don't invite no bitches to this tele if they ain't sluts
Fifth generation Glock, I'll end his bloodline
Bitch, I'm chasin' money every single day the sun shine
Think we shadow boxin' in the strip, we sendin' ones flyin'
Funds over fun, funny doggy pockets fun-sized
Pull it out the bank to blow some money at the mall
Could be Nature Valley, I ain't crumbier than y'all
Everybody scorin', all my buddies get the ball
Bitch, I'm skrrtin' in the kitty, might catch Cuddy with some dog
Lumberjack your bitch, I stuffed her tummy with some log
She be on my dick, she tryna suck me out my drawers
I don't do no playin', if you touch me, you get paused
Get your bitch, she keep on askin', "Do you love me?" I'm like, "Naw"
(Bitch, Dog Shit Militia)
