"WWE" lyrics
(Chavo, throw a number)
I ain't gon' lie though, every Glock is like I'm
Yeah, bitch
Yeah
Yeah (Chavo, throw a number)
(That shit bust)
Ladder hanging out of every Glock, it's like I'm Mexican
Better not pull up thinking that you Chavo, we ain't wrestling
Closet full of geese, might pop out flyer than a pelican
Gucci on my torso, bitches say the fabric delicate
Work jumping, finna turn around like a 619
Life crazy, boy, you better not lack, you only get one time
Wockiana, dos or better, no, I can't sip one line
Mike Amiris full of pesos, yeah, bitch, the ripped up kind
Stan always got a hammer, he like Triple H
Pillow talking just to fuck is a bitch nigga trait
It's enough room to come and eat, ain't no need to hate
Head that I woke up to this morning had me running late
V12, if I punch the gas, bet the whip go zoom
This ain't Smackdown, you knuckle up? We make sticks go boom
Threw a ten ball to my bitch, told her, "Fix yo move"
Buffies on, blowing Glocky, brodie shoot, the stick so cool
Draky put him in a bowtie like he Rick Rude
Getting active, nineteen hunnid dollar pair of gym shoes
If I lived the life you live, I'd be pissed too
Splash God, see the water drop when I drip through
Freak bitch was trying to 69, I had to piledrive her
We'd get to sliding like a ball tire
Fucked up Neiman's, dragging bags at the mall tired
Dog Shit Militia touched more chicken than an air fryer
I be scamming, unky seen more white than a Cracker Barrel
Fuck a Chevy, this a Kitty-Cat zooming past Camaros
Unky play with 'bows, fuck around, threw his ass an arrow
Spanish mamacita tryna fuck 'cause I flashed dinero
Masked up like Mick Foley
Fully automatic blicky and I got some shit on me
Got a carriage underneath the hood, they tried to get on me
Try to wrestle? Boy, I'm like the Sandman, this stick on me
Better not try to pick on me
Hit him with the ladder, John Morrison
Bitch, don't even mention that lame nigga, I make more than him
It's like they got something to prove when I'm recording them
In Miami tripping just like Stan, bitch, I'm with Dorien
Niggas better Donald Duck, the AR got a Mickey in it
I don't give a fuck about that store if ain't no giffies in it
Buffies got the rosy diamonds, pendant got the pissy glisten
Funny how y'all baby blew while I'm counting Nipsey chicken
If it ain't no pape', Booker T, hit the spinaroonie
At the gallery in Houston, I just spent a slip in Gucci
Every fit twenty-five hunnid, shit, I'm getting bougie
Dog Shit Militia, high as hell in here twisting dookies
Me and gang got the sample shit in a nelson hold
Heard yo team let you go 'cause you broke the code
Had to bring reinforcements, caught a heavy load
You think you macho, Randy Savage, but I bet you fold
Shit, fuck, damn (Chavo, throw a number)
I ain't even got to say too much
Bitch (Chavo, throw a number)
Yeah, ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, that's on every song
(Chavo, throw a number)
(Chavo, throw a number)
Better not pull up thinking that you Chavo, we ain't wrestling
Work jumping, finna turn around like a 619
Stan always got a hammer, he like Triple H
This ain't Smackdown, you knuckle up? We make sticks go boom
If it ain't no pape', Booker T, hit the spinaroonie
I ain't gon' lie though, every Glock is like I'm
Yeah, bitch
Yeah
Yeah (Chavo, throw a number)
(That shit bust)
Ladder hanging out of every Glock, it's like I'm Mexican
Better not pull up thinking that you Chavo, we ain't wrestling
Closet full of geese, might pop out flyer than a pelican
Gucci on my torso, bitches say the fabric delicate
Work jumping, finna turn around like a 619
Life crazy, boy, you better not lack, you only get one time
Wockiana, dos or better, no, I can't sip one line
Mike Amiris full of pesos, yeah, bitch, the ripped up kind
Stan always got a hammer, he like Triple H
Pillow talking just to fuck is a bitch nigga trait
It's enough room to come and eat, ain't no need to hate
Head that I woke up to this morning had me running late
V12, if I punch the gas, bet the whip go zoom
This ain't Smackdown, you knuckle up? We make sticks go boom
Threw a ten ball to my bitch, told her, "Fix yo move"
Buffies on, blowing Glocky, brodie shoot, the stick so cool
Draky put him in a bowtie like he Rick Rude
Getting active, nineteen hunnid dollar pair of gym shoes
If I lived the life you live, I'd be pissed too
Splash God, see the water drop when I drip through
Freak bitch was trying to 69, I had to piledrive her
We'd get to sliding like a ball tire
Fucked up Neiman's, dragging bags at the mall tired
Dog Shit Militia touched more chicken than an air fryer
I be scamming, unky seen more white than a Cracker Barrel
Fuck a Chevy, this a Kitty-Cat zooming past Camaros
Unky play with 'bows, fuck around, threw his ass an arrow
Spanish mamacita tryna fuck 'cause I flashed dinero
Masked up like Mick Foley
Fully automatic blicky and I got some shit on me
Got a carriage underneath the hood, they tried to get on me
Try to wrestle? Boy, I'm like the Sandman, this stick on me
Better not try to pick on me
Hit him with the ladder, John Morrison
Bitch, don't even mention that lame nigga, I make more than him
It's like they got something to prove when I'm recording them
In Miami tripping just like Stan, bitch, I'm with Dorien
Niggas better Donald Duck, the AR got a Mickey in it
I don't give a fuck about that store if ain't no giffies in it
Buffies got the rosy diamonds, pendant got the pissy glisten
Funny how y'all baby blew while I'm counting Nipsey chicken
If it ain't no pape', Booker T, hit the spinaroonie
At the gallery in Houston, I just spent a slip in Gucci
Every fit twenty-five hunnid, shit, I'm getting bougie
Dog Shit Militia, high as hell in here twisting dookies
Me and gang got the sample shit in a nelson hold
Heard yo team let you go 'cause you broke the code
Had to bring reinforcements, caught a heavy load
You think you macho, Randy Savage, but I bet you fold
Shit, fuck, damn (Chavo, throw a number)
I ain't even got to say too much
Bitch (Chavo, throw a number)
Yeah, ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, that's on every song
(Chavo, throw a number)
(Chavo, throw a number)
Better not pull up thinking that you Chavo, we ain't wrestling
Work jumping, finna turn around like a 619
Stan always got a hammer, he like Triple H
This ain't Smackdown, you knuckle up? We make sticks go boom
If it ain't no pape', Booker T, hit the spinaroonie
