Big Trippin’

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah Huh Ayy, huh, ayy, huh (Reuel, stop playing with these niggas) [Verse] Bitch said, "This ain't what I'm used to" Tool on me, I'll hit a nigga in his loose screw I'm connected every fucking where like some Bluetooth Huh, yeah, yeah Only use my hands to grab the pistol if it's confrontation Brodie out his shit, he specialize in turning opps to patients Cut into the waitress like, "My bitch like her lobster Cajun" Tron high as hell, all he do is roll up za and face it Blicky poking out the skinny jeans, you see the pistol print Wouldn't waste a bullet on this chump, got him pistol whipped Wakе up and throw my tech on and I ain't quit my shift If she point at it, I grab it off the shеlf 'cause my bitch the shit Like, huh, I know you sick that you missed yo Lyft Dirty-ass McQueens on, that walk around with no whip I know you taste my dick a lil' bit when you kiss yo bitch Surfing on the web with a punch knowing this gon' hit Huh, I'm a swiper and a scammer I think I'm from Ragnarok, how I'm riding with the hammer If you catch me in the store, just know I'm sliding with them jammers She something like Teanna Trump, how she slobbing it on camera Ayy, you could probably jump in the ocean, you couldn't drip like me Huh, even if you untie yo shoes, couldn't trip like me Huh, you could have the fucking bubble guts, couldn't shit like me Huh, yo bitch gon' choose 'cause she know you ain't shit like me I check-out and do my giffy dance Wouldn't even square up with a opp if I had fifty hands Riding 'round with them racks out, think I'm the Titty Man BabyTron really up some shit, you know Jimmy scam Yeah, you know Jimmy scam, nigga Bitch, ayy, huh, yeah Yeah, I could up a fifty on a 'cause I really can Riding 'round with that fucker out, quick to burn a nigga Unc' running 'round with that, quick to serve a nigga Bitch bougie like, nah, for real, quick to curve a nigga Gang need new tires for the Chally, he keep swerving niggas Yeah, goddamn, Reuel, you tripped on this one, I ain't gon' lie Ayy, huh, bitch reaching for the MAG, might fuck around and blow her ass Ayy, huh, really just fucked off the name, didn't even know her ass Really at the strip for lamb chops but I'll throw some cash Huh, they like, "Stan, you the GOAT", huh You'll hesitate to spend a band, boy, you broke, huh Boy, you really safer than a bitch like you don't stink Bitch came with a lil' friend, I like 'em both, huh Huh, but Dee the freaky one If you talking 'bout a MAG, just know I keep me one If you talking 'bout a bag, just know I be in one But you ain't really talking 'bout shit, boy, you ain't seen a crumb Tripping up at Neiman Marcus, pulling out the racks and shit My bitch want Dior and Alexander, she don't ask for dick What the fuck? There go the boys, bro, stash the blick