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letra de maroon 5 - shittyboyz

[intro: babytron]
nyah
sh-ttyboyz, dog sh-t militia

[verse 1: babytron]
bought the jeans yesterday, but sh-t, the shoes newer (ooh)
he up hundreds once a year, that boy a blue mooner (lame)
twenty hoes versus me, i ain’t a youtuber
when it come to l’s, i bounce back, you a boo-hooer (nyah)
you better warn the driver ’cause we shoot ubers
black trucks in manhattan, we ain’t never used scooters
big ten milli with the glitchie, you a deuce-deucer
zotti smellin’ like a litterbox, like where’s the p–p scooper?

actin’ like the brick man, at most, you probably sell weed (man)
if we got fl!cked right now, you’d probably tell on me
what i mean is if i pull over, it’s probably felonies
how the f-ck my shooter ain’t on billboard, all these hits he got?
he just met the juice man and cop, that’s a risky pop
went from rock bottom underground to the tippy top (top)
ball hog with the chop, i’m takin’ sixty shots

[verse 2: trdee]
(brrt, fah-fah, frrt)
oh, you a funny guy (oh)
what is that, a .7? ain’t no way you gettin’ high
i be livin’ like a pilot, every day i’m gettin’ fly (fly)
i be with the head tappers, we ain’t shootin’ in the sky
real n-gga comin’ through, make some room
tron in this b-tch trippin’, talkin’ crazy off of shrooms (sh-t)
you can’t catch me in that bucket, push the pedal, it don’t zoom
gang and them just dropped a five, finna turn the sprite maroon (let’s go)
i don’t g-ngb-ng, sbdsm to the end (sh-ttyboyz)
really one of one like you might just get smacked, you call me twin
really him, no, i’m not them, so, b-tch, you better come correct (i’m him)
i’ll pull up ballin’ on you n-ggas, i don’t have to stretch (f-ck, ballin’)
i be standin’ on business, please don’t take it personal (ha, ha)
f-ck i look like battle rappin’ rappers? i ain’t arsonal (the f-ck?)
baby, i’ma keep it real with you, i ain’t perfect, though (i’m not)
you be bitter hatin’ on your own n-ggas on the low (for real?)
that sh-t weak (d-mn)
[verse 3: stanwill]
huh, b-tch, you know what time is, all i see is money lookin’ at my datejust
reachin’ for my rollie, end up like it, get your face bust
i’ll get your gang touched, i’ll get your bae f-cked
don’t invite no b-tches to this tele if they ain’t sl-ts
fifth generation glock, i’ll end his bloodline
b-tch, i’m chasin’ money every single day the sun shine
think we shadow boxin’ in the strip, we sendin’ ones flyin’
funds over fun, funny doggy pockets fun-sized
pull it out the bank to blow some money at the mall
could be nature valley, i ain’t crumbier than y’all
everybody scorin’, all my buddies get the ball

lumberjack your b-tch, i stuffed her tummy with some log
she be on my d-ck, she tryna suck me out my drawers
i don’t do no playin’, if you touch me, you get paused
get your b-tch, she keep on askin’, “do you love me?” i’m like, “naw”

[outro: stanwill]
huh, b-tch, dog sh-t militia

- shittyboyz

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