Lil Jairmy - Boss Shit lyrics

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Lil Jairmy - Boss Shit lyrics

[Intro] (Ayy, who dat? John Gotitt) Yeah [Chorus] I been on some boss sh*t Switchin' up my b*tches like my outfits Thirty thousand dollars in my mouth every time I talk sh*t Boss sh*t, uh, traphouse like an outlet And the sh*t I spent up on my wrist, I could've bought a house with Boss sh*t, steady buyin' cars like where the drought went? Young ni**a really gettin' paper, I'm talkin' five bank accounts sh*t Hold up, if it ain't no three-five, I can't roll up Just picked my son up in that Lam' truck, he said motherfu*k a stroller, yeah [Verse 1] Whippin' Coca-Cola, uh, pockets gettin' swoler, yeah Motherfu*k the 12 and fu*k the ni**as that came told ya, yeah Trappin' bricks of doja, yeah, came from California, yeah Exotic marijuana, iPhonе ring like Motorola, yeah I ain't fu*kin' with thesе ni**as, so bossed up, don't know who to trust now They told me to go plain jane, but all I know is bustdown I smoke so many pounds of dro, I probably never come down I was 'posed to stop some years ago, I still ain't put the cup down I turn up on a pussy ho, I swear that I won't turn down ni**as think somethin' changed 'cause I'm up now I'll throw it all away before I stand down I spend all this sh*t puttin' them fans down Catch him pants down, it's a man down I'm still hands-on when I'm payin' out Tell 'em run up on me, think I'm playin' 'round, b*tch Yeah, chopper co*ked, I'll really, really knock your head off, yeah Gunshots all they hear, rrr, and they sped off, yeah Aimin' for your top, fu*k ni**a, tryna knock your dreads off Thousand rounds for your big dog, ni**as gettin' money and we layin' law, yeah [Chorus] I been on some boss sh*t Switchin' up my b*tches like my outfits Thirty thousand dollars in my mouth every time I talk sh*t Boss sh*t, uh, traphouse like an outlet And the sh*t I spent up on my wrist, I could've bought a house with Boss sh*t, steady buyin' cars like where the drought went? Young ni**a really gettin' paper, I'm talkin' five bank accounts sh*t Hold up, if it ain't no three-five, I can't roll up Just picked my son up in that Lam' truck, he said motherfu*k a stroller, yeah [Verse 2] Grew up a lil' soldier, sh*t got worse as I got older, yeah Mama checked my backpack, found a hitlist in my folder, yeah In the club hollerin' out free Pat, hundreds so swole that a ni**a can't fold 'em, yeah Never go against that, I'ma push a ni**a's sh*t back, he don't do what I told him, uh Smokin' on some stanky, yeah, diamonds steady swangin', uh Wockhardt baby, three hundred a line's what I'm drinkin', uh No heart, showin' ni**as love, you won't make it Treat that Lambo' like a go-kart, I take off like I'm racin', yeah Whip game is amazin', save that paper like a Mason My main b*tch, she rockin' Gucci, Radric Davis, hoes hatin' I went bought out the damn doctor, he ain't havin' no patients Quick to draw down with that chopper, we ain't havin' no patience, naw Yeah, yeah, lil' ni**as kept talkin' sh*t, went bought that Audemar, yeah Lil Jairmy treat her foreign like a racing car, yeah These b*tches eat my dick like I'm a superstar Only if these hoes knew the truth, I'm just a dope boy [Chorus] I been on some boss sh*t Switchin' up my b*tches like my outfits Thirty thousand dollars in my mouth every time I talk sh*t Boss sh*t, uh, traphouse like an outlet And the sh*t I spent up on my wrist, I could've bought a house with Boss sh*t, steady buyin' cars like where the drought went? Young ni**a really gettin' paper, I'm talkin' five bank accounts sh*t Hold up, if it ain't no three-five, I can't roll up Just picked my son up in that Lam' truck, he said motherfu*k a stroller, yeah [Outro] Boss sh*t ni**as tired of flexin' all these cars, that don't cost sh*t Boss sh*t, boss sh*t ni**as tired of flexin' all these diamonds, they don't cost sh*t Yeah