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letra de why tf - stanwill

[intro]
sh-ttyboyz (sh-ttyboyz)
sh-ttyboyz (sh-ttyboyz)
why the f-ck (dogsh-t militia that’s on every sign)
why the f-ck, huh, ayy (sh-ttyboyz)
n-ggas think they f-ckin with me (sh-ttyboyz dogsh-t militia that’s on every sign)
n-ggas think they f-ckin with me (sh-ttyboyz dogsh-t militia that’s on every sign)
why the f-ck, n-ggas think that yeah (pew, sh-ttyboyz)

[chorus]
yeahhhhhh
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
these n-ggas think they f-ckin’ with me
you don’t catch me in the stu i’m prolly somewhere punchin’ giffy’s
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
the police thinkin’ they can fl!ck me
scat take a split-second just to go from 0 to 60
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
these n-ggas thinkin’ they can get me
turn this b-tch to disney world quick we poppin’ out with mickey’s
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
these b-tches thinkin’ they can trick me
you done lost yo d-mn mind you think this more than just a quickie
[verse 1]
you won’t catch me trippin’ on no b-tches i don’t care about em
fendi with the evil eyes they think i got a staring problem
you was prolly rockin’ levi strauss when i was wearing robin’s
cheese the only thing that’s on my mind i think i’m aaron rodgers
riding round with blasters lookin’ like its halo infinite
new b-tch 35 i call her my lil jlow pinkett smith
every day my n-ggas light up tree it ain’t no christmas sh-t
suck it like a demon, ain’t no f-ckin’ way you christian b-tch
i might rap another verse, or i might jam another reader
every b-tch a masterpiece, i’m only slamming mona lisa’s
rock a palm angels joggy but i’m dancing with the demons
red beams on his block, i anakin and beat him

[chorus]
yeahhhhhh
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
these n-ggas think they f-ckin’ with me
you don’t catch me in the stu i’m prolly somewhere punchin’ giffy’s
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
the police thinkin’ they can fl!ck me
scat take a split-second just to go from 0 to 60
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
these n-ggas thinkin’ they can get me
turn this b-tch to disney world quick we poppin’ out with mickey’s
why the f-ck? (why the f-ck?)
these b-tches thinkin’ they can trick me
you done lost yo d-mn mind you think this more than just a quickie (lost yo’ d-mn mind)
[verse 2]
(pshhhhh)
run a check up like a doctor
pull up gucci, louis, dior, she gon’ rip me out my boxers
(pshhhhh)
if it ain’t hibachi then its lobster
n-gga we don’t do no fighting, we be boxing up the boxers
(pshhhhh)
all these chopsticks in the whip, i need an eggroll (sticks)
pull up in this fast whip i bet she give me head slow
sh-ttyboy but i ain’t sh-t, the b-tches say i’m dead wrong
big sh-tter, when i die i want that on my headstone
pape plus designer equals your b-tch minus all her clothes
my whip looking just like ace of spades, i ride with all these poles
bro don’t got no friends i don’t know why he buy all this vlone

- stanwill

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