Bun B - Pinky Ringz lyrics

Published

0 410 0

Bun B - Pinky Ringz lyrics

[Verse 1 – Scotty ATL] My Cadillac f**ing ready, pinky rings up in the sky Let em know I f**ing live for em or I f**ing die Please pardon my excellence know it's kinda petty but The king is coming, I'm just tryna get him ready Bout 1980 something back, don't forget it Tryna take over the streets like the crack epidemic Get [?], tweakers and music junkies alike Let's try to work inside like an exercise bike I'm pimping, not literally Got no hoes on the track, but a n***a do feel like that He was fly in grade school, n***a still like jack Picture man took his still right quick, we taking over [?] [Hook – Mookie Jones] Who that boy, in that car With that watch, on his arm Counting cake right in your face Like please don't hate, all they say Put your pinky rings up Put your pinky rings up high Put your pinky rings up Put your pinky rings up high Put your pinky rings up [Verse 2 – Scotty ATL] Put your pinky rings up Keep them motherf**ers up high, then wave them hoes in the sky Fire up a blunt, let a n***a get high I defy gravity, n***a getting so fly Whatchu talking bout, whatchu talking bout (whatchu talking bout) Man I can't fall [?] I ain't even got an Audemar, but I still feel flashy Ashy to f**ing cla**y, that's the truth Cool club, leave this sh** [?] in the booth Saving up, tryna put a hole in the roof This is my reality, this is not a spoof Don't talk about n***a, give proof I hear em saying [Hook] [Verse 2 – Bun B] Man I was born in the 70s, deep down in the dirty Raised on them red beans and them neck bones, ya heard me? Last of a dying breed, trying not to be extinct Posted in the Dew Drop Inn, baby bring me a drink Silent like a John Deere tractor Rapper not an actor, and yes I am a motherf**ing factor Tall like the trees in the summer time You already know if it ain't trill pimping, it ain't none of mine You know I keep these streets hotter than a fish fry You might be greater later player, not on this try This round is sewed up, tucked and hemmed Ask my haters, they say they done had enough of him Swim through the swamp waters, came home with gator bites Something like mosquitos, but not as bad as a hater bite And look at you f** n***a, you the hater type Get out my circumference, fore I get in some dumb sh**