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letra de getaway - shittyboyz

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[intro: babytron]
gang came a long way, what can i say?
(it’s bluestrip, baby)

[verse 1: babytron]
if you see me hopping on a flight, just know it’s first class
(huh, nah, for real, it don’t matter where i’m going)
if see me hopping on a flight, just know it’s pape’ ot
six of quagy-agy, you can’t tell the faygo cream
i got fire plastic on me, i ain’t pay no cheese
why you at the light squealing? you can’t race on e
(shaking my motherf-cking head)
boy, i’ma leave you at the light
smacked off a pint, jesus christ, i might crash tonight
throw us in the hall of fame (swish)
half-court, full court, sh-t, i’m calling gang
turn the blender on on any b-tch ’cause they be all the same
forty pointers in my cartiers, these b-tches cost a chain
i had to frost the frames
two glockys, i’m just dual wiеlding
sbdsm, we need a few million
tried to put a limit on us? thеy gon’ need a new ceiling
hit him with a green tip, it ain’t no way that dude healing, huh
[verse 2: trdee]
it’s gon’ hurt you when you cannot a hold of me
why would i beef with you? you only known locally
he was talking real hard, we finna go and see
need a ride or die that’s even ’round if you low on e
out in cali riding ’round with the roof gone
in the room with six b-tches like a [?]
f-ck, i might just do the dash tryna get home
sbdsm, put it on my headstone
i can’t trade teams, i understand how dame feel
all she do is give it up, how do she got a brain still?
if we hit you with that bl!ck, you cannot go and find s.h.i.e.l.d
unc’ a junkie, up at 2 am pouring lines still
all you hear is, “what the f-ck is that?”, when i’m passing by
if you ain’t down to blow that b-tch, man, pass the glock
you saw yo mans wide open but ain’t pass the rock
rich, bad b-tch, only thing she like to do is shop

[verse 3: stanwill]
shopaholic up at neiman’s, had to hire bag draggers
if it ain’t the ksubis, i’m a mike amiri swag sagger
this a h-llkitty, that’s a scatty, boy, my ass faster
if you say the bag can make itself, you thinking ass backwards
you felt the rain drop and hit the crib, didn’t you?
mike amiri denim, christian dior on my tennis shoe
living life the fast way, gang in bentley coupes
closet like a ocean, getting dressed, i just be swimming through
tron pouring syrup, ain’t no flapjacks ’round
caught his 392 and blew his scat pack down
mister fitted in the booth, he rap capped out
i’m in my motherf-cking duffy, put the backpacks down
gang blow expensive eighths
hunnid dollar meals and up, i got expensive taste
i just hopped up out a coupe, you got a lyft today
out in n0bu with my b-tch, needed a getaway
[outro: stanwill]
yeah
(it’s bluestrip, baby)

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