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letra de hunnits trynna run - scy jimm

[intro]
yeah, uh
know what i’m sayin’, uh
f-ck a n-gga
d-mn
know what i’m sayin’?

[chorus]
this sh-t i’m smokin’ potent like some f-ckin’ meth or somethin’
playin’ with that pot, bring me gold like leprechaun (on gang)
ridin’ with a glock 23 like i’m lebron (grrah, grrah, grrah)
ma dukes, she raised a hustler, n-gga, i’m my mama’s son (yeah)
a hundred ain’t enough, i need m’s, metric ton (m’s)
how you ain’t got no money, but you postin’ all them guns, n-gga? (f-ck?)
i’m the type to pop out in amiri jeans and 1s, n-gga (yeah, yeah)
wake up chasing racks, look at them hundreds tryna run (got ’em)

[verse]
they know i’m a problem, they say go get ’em, i got ’em (go get ’em, i got ’em)
all this water on my wrist look like thе d-mn bikini bottom (f-ck)
these lil’ n-ggas my sons, they doin’ еverything i taught ’em (everything i taught ’em)
they took off way before me, i’m still wonderin’ how i caught ’em (f-ck?)
b-tch, the summer’s mine
florida n-gga, pop out black hoodie in the summertime (hoo, hoo)
bro don’t hoop, but keep a 4-5 like rondonumbanine (me, n-gga)
real player, she ain’t with the sh-ts, then she ain’t one of mine, n-gga (the f-ck, n-gga?)
go’n pull your cameraphone out, it’s a photoshoot (photoshoot)
we was takin’ pics, now we f-ckin’ in the photo booth (yeah, yeah)
baby, you so bad, all the n-ggas notice you (all the n-ggas notice you)
i been runnin’ racks up, gettin’ chicken like i’m ‘posed to do (on gang)
i came out the p-ssy ford tough, i was made for this (i was built for this)
rollie on my wrist, forty thousand what i paid for this (n-gga)
standin’ on the block still broke, he ain’t makin’ sh-t (come on, man)
all i gotta do is hit the booth and i can make a hit (yeah)
hit this gas, i’m in that mode (i’m in that mode), b-tch, i’m known to get sh-t sold (known to get sh-t sold)
i’m still gettin’ cheese from tapes i dropped like two, three years ago
if you ain’t got a hundred thousand, what the f-ck you chillin’ for? (f-ck you chillin’ for?)
n-gga mad about a b-tch and i ain’t even hit the ho, n-gga (haha)
put it on my life, i bet the house these n-ggas ain’t f-ckin’ with me (these n-ggas ain’t f-ckin’ with me)
f-ck 12, i’m out this b-tch trappin’ ’til they come and get me (f-ck ’em)
i ain’t dealin’ with her, she ain’t a ten, with my hoes, i’m picky (outta here)
i get her home and blow her back out, got her screamin’ ricky (ricky, yeah)
[chorus]
this sh-t i’m smokin’ potent like some f-ckin’ meth or somethin’
playin’ with that pot, bring me gold like leprechaun (ooh, ooh)
ridin’ with a glock 23 like i’m lebron (grrah, grrah, grrah)
ma dukes, she raised a hustler, n-gga, i’m my mama’s son (i’m my mama’s son)
a hundred ain’t enough, i need m’s, metric ton (yeah, yeah)
how you ain’t got no money, but you postin’ all them guns, n-gga? (f-ck?)
i’m the type to pop out in amiri jeans and 1s, n-gga (yeah, yeah)
wake up chasing racks, look at them hundreds tryna run (got ’em)

[outro]
n-gga
yeah
f-ck a n-gga, uh
get cheese, n-gga
get cheese, n-gga, uh
get cheese, n-gga (f-ckin’ rookie ass, uh)

- scy jimm

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