Scoring

[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