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letra de big shy (outro) - $hyfromdatre

let’s get this straight now—
i never f-cked anybody over in my life, didn’t have a [?], you got that? (ok)
all i have in this world is my boss and my word, and i don’t break them for [?]

ayy, i’m going up, n-gga—no escalator. (ayy)
your girl really don’t talk, this sh-t don’t stop
i’m steady going up like elevators. (no cap)
this sh-t like [?], they want the music now; i don’t want a [?]
b-tches talking sh-t, meanwhile, i’m popping bottles

ayy, b-tch, i be the moneymaker
b-tch, i feel like undertaker
and b-tch, i ain’t no k!ller, but don’t push me—
you can meet your maker. (ayy)
these b-tches is my sons, mane—
and i ain’t even from jamaica
and don’t make me get my gun, mane—
[?] (ayy, ayy)

hold on, i’ll be right back
b-tches mad i won’t type back
you say you gonna do what to who?
chill out, hoe, you ain’t even like that
i done burnt so many b-tches—must be fertile
you down in miami, but what you know about that [?]?
ayy, i be peeping game
if you want something green and slow, get you a f-cking turtle
and i don’t play no games—
i jump on the beat like i’m doing hurdles
ain’t no cappin’ in my rap—
i’m hard as f-ck; they like, “how dare she?”
all that wolfing ‘bout what you gon’ do to a b-tch—
that sh-t don’t scare me

ayy, and b-tch, i’m living like larry
i’m posting up in the cut with twin—
b-tch, we like tom and jerry. (ayy)
i feel bad for the next hoe that try—
i’m [?] b-tch-smack-a-tooth, man, call me the tooth fairy. (ayy)
i want b-tches to talk all that sh-t to my face—
but you know these b-tches too scary. (ayy)

and these b-tches know better. (know better)
you hating while i’m getting more cheddar. (more cheddar)
and if you make a scene, i’ma put on a show—
b-tch, just like it’s coach-lla. (coach-lla)
yeah, i’m a boss, b-tch—
i’m back on boss sh-t
the fans telling me to show my soft side
but i ain’t with that soft sh-t. (ayy, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, man)
my voice going away—
b-tch, i’m in the booth rapping my ass off. (d-mn)
b-tches be like, “no filter, b-tch”—
but you forgot to wipe the mask off
i heard b-tches broke through the grapevine
on the hatin’ b-tch, i won’t waste time
man, these b-tches ain’t street for real—
only thing street is your t–th throwing gang signs. (gang, gang, gang, gang)

b-tch, and free my n-ggas out the pen
i rip the mic up on the block—
sh-t, i’ma have to spin a bin
big shot done did it again. (ayy)
you a hatin’ hoe—that’s a sin
i miss my designer—i’m too different
i was put on the bench, lost my motherf-ckin’ top—
b-tch, it only took two minutes
(two f-cking minutes, b-tch—stop playin’ with me, hoe. yeah, b-tch, i’m back.)

- hyfromdatre

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