"Sour Punch Kids" lyrics
ShittyBoyz & Kasher Quon Lyrics
Marc Boomin, this you?
Hot as hell in the whip, riding with three pistols
I just blew a nigga crib up with three missiles
Riding in a Scat Pack, look like a green pickle
I drink red, lame niggas sip green liquor
I just rode through yo hood and you wasn't in it
I can't meet you for the sauce, you gotta come get it
This a baby Draco with a drum in it
Hit her from the back, she keep saying, "Put yo thumb in it"
Talking 'bout fighting, do I look like Triple H?
I'ma let this Glock punch you like a middleweight
Been on the road for two days and I'm still awake
I ain't hopping out my bag 'less I'm hopping in some pape
Feel like Tim Duncan, I been scoring in the bank
I ain't a shrimp but it's sitting on my dinner plate
Time is money, I refuse to be a minute late
Quon pulled up with a .40 looking for some pistol play
Got a piece for every puzzle but you hoes still a mystery
Left my old bitch in the past, history
I done jugged another granny off the trickery
Real slimeball, pray that God don't see the sin in me
I don't know what you thought but it's not this
My shooter wear glasses, dawg, he will not miss
He couldn't start out wide receiver, how he drop shit
Swear to God I love Chase, I just pop six
Made two in one play, boy, I really made a ten
Game breaker on, boy, I'm finna break the rim
Thirty day grind, I ain't finna get a [?]
She ask who I am, told that lil' bitch I'm him
Skinny-ass nigga, still was flexing in the gym
Jumped in with the sharks, I ain't know how to swim
White bitch, big booty, bro, almost called her "Kim"
I'll let them .223s go and rip through his limbs
Bitches see me out in traffic like, "Damn, that's really him"
Fifty for a eighth, bitch, I'm smoking on Chemdawg
Get yo bitch off my balls
This some super Cookie, got me bouncing off the walls
Lil' bitch bugging, I'ma spray her with the OFF!
Pass dawg a map, brodie out here looking lost
I fuck up the mall, you still worried about the cost
ShittyBoyz broke? Bitch, that's false
Hot as hell in the whip, riding with three pistols
I just blew a nigga crib up with three missiles
Riding in a Scat Pack, look like a green pickle
I drink red, lame niggas sip green liquor
I just rode through yo hood and you wasn't in it
I can't meet you for the sauce, you gotta come get it
This a baby Draco with a drum in it
Hit her from the back, she keep saying, "Put yo thumb in it"
Talking 'bout fighting, do I look like Triple H?
I'ma let this Glock punch you like a middleweight
Been on the road for two days and I'm still awake
I ain't hopping out my bag 'less I'm hopping in some pape
Feel like Tim Duncan, I been scoring in the bank
I ain't a shrimp but it's sitting on my dinner plate
Time is money, I refuse to be a minute late
Quon pulled up with a .40 looking for some pistol play
Got a piece for every puzzle but you hoes still a mystery
Left my old bitch in the past, history
I done jugged another granny off the trickery
Real slimeball, pray that God don't see the sin in me
I don't know what you thought but it's not this
My shooter wear glasses, dawg, he will not miss
He couldn't start out wide receiver, how he drop shit
Swear to God I love Chase, I just pop six
Made two in one play, boy, I really made a ten
Game breaker on, boy, I'm finna break the rim
Thirty day grind, I ain't finna get a [?]
She ask who I am, told that lil' bitch I'm him
Skinny-ass nigga, still was flexing in the gym
Jumped in with the sharks, I ain't know how to swim
White bitch, big booty, bro, almost called her "Kim"
I'll let them .223s go and rip through his limbs
Bitches see me out in traffic like, "Damn, that's really him"
Fifty for a eighth, bitch, I'm smoking on Chemdawg
Get yo bitch off my balls
This some super Cookie, got me bouncing off the walls
Lil' bitch bugging, I'ma spray her with the OFF!
Pass dawg a map, brodie out here looking lost
I fuck up the mall, you still worried about the cost
ShittyBoyz broke? Bitch, that's false
