Scoring

Lyrics

[Intro] Hit-Boy [Verse 1: DaBoii] Niggas thought that it was over, bitch, I think not If I talk to this bitch nice, she'll give mean top You niggas still ain't seen ten, y'all ain't seen guap And I just put it in her stomach, that's her G-spot Everybody think that bitch loyal, we don't see not Spent nine hundred on some kicks that look like Reeboks All these colors in my chain, I'm a peacock And you the type to pull the trigger while it's de-cocked You play dumb and go blind when you see opps And his bitch tryna pull my jack out the beanstalk And my mama raised a man, I ain't need pops If they don't wanna pay no homage, bitch, we need props, bitch [Chorus: Yhung T.O.] Young nigga lane switching in the foreign I ain't nothin' like your nigga 'cause he broke and he boring If I put that on gang, on gang, bitch, we scoring Brodie-bro up that Glock and got to shooting like he Jordan You ain't finna do shit, don't speak on shit Give a fuck about your nigga, he don't be on shit I don't need no nigga, I don't need no bitch I'ma tell you what it is and I don't need no lip [Verse 2: Yhung T.O.] I would if I could, I can't speak on it That chain ain't him, ain't no D on it And this a tennis, not no real chain And brodie-bro on probation, usin' bro name Ayy, throw it back, let me see something If you ain't never left the hood, you ain't see nothing The real niggas just gon' shoot with less discussion Niggas still claim that block but don't be from it [Verse 3: Slimmy B] Said you on me, when you see me, better bust then Bought a Jag the first time I ever touched ten Grimy nigga, ain't no bitch want to fuck then Ring the bell, kick the door, then we rush in Really in the field, bitch, we outside sliding Niggas say they really in the field, but they hiding Young fly nigga, shit, I could've been a pilot All I talk is cash, broke niggas stay silent Hop up out the Wraith, doors on that suicide shit I don't even want to fuck your bitch, too much mileage You the type to walk the whole mall and never buy shit Pussy nigga thinking I'm a lick, come and try it [Chorus: Yhung T.O.] Young nigga lane switching in the foreign I ain't nothin' like your nigga 'cause he broke and he boring If I put that on gang, on gang, bitch, we scoring Brodie-bro up that Glock and got to shooting like he Jordan You ain't finna do shit, don't speak on shit Give a fuck about your nigga, he don't be on shit I don't need no nigga, I don't need no bitch I'ma tell you what it is and I don't need no lip