Yung Simmie - Dead Beat lyrics

Published

0 260 0

Yung Simmie - Dead Beat lyrics

[Verse 1] Man these n***a's faker than silicon titties And I expose the fake too much realness in me I pour up the Henny, I smoke til I'm dizzy Stuffin the Philly, your girl on my dick while I'm doing my thizzy Like I was Drizzy, nothing was the same but my name is Simmie Your girl give me brain while I'm speedin the Hemi But n***a's don't hear me til I get it trippin' now you hit with the Semi I'm puttin' in a clip and I'm a rip til it's empty I'm pointing at your head and you can't run cause you stranded You f**ing with a savage and my rug will do damage I give you the package, I give you the work I'm an OG smoker I don't f** with the purp I embarra** these n***a's now they call me the jerk These joke a** n***a's ain't putting in work Meanwhile I go to work with my name on my shirt Cause you know I gotta get it cause I came from the dirt Mamma said bless them I'm a take them to church Now I'm schooling these n***a's better tuck in your shirt Now my main b**h keep a shank in the purse Cause you won't catch me slipping she gon' cut you first I'm always strapped it was under my shirt Move and get merked now your face on the shirt Simmie be the n***a leave beats in the hearse It's a lyrical race and I just came in first I let my money talk I can never converse To a lame a** n***a who can never convert To a real a** n***a that you hear on this verse I give it to you live you just heard that sh** first I'm a give your b**h some water and she keep with the thirst I'm a make your b**h my b**h and keep my work in the purse [Verse 2] Stunt on my haters I ball like the Lakers Dunking on haters I'm tall as the rim if I stand on my paper I came to eat but I'm serving these n***a's like I am the waiter Call Tony Hawk cause I'm grinding I'm grinding like I am a skater Ducking the cops I'm a speed in my foreign like I am a racer If it's beef then I eat you up later We can't speak if it ain't about paper Cause all of my n***a's want it All of my n***a's on it All of my n***a's ready They like where the f** my opponent They comin and now you running Bandcamp drummers drumming Headcount hunters hunting Grindtime countin hundreds Flex time hella stunting Loudpack smell like onions Marked up hella mugging Gold teeth hella thugging In the cut rolling up something Black shades on I ain't worried about nothing Smoking OG you ain't got what I'm puffing That straight from the plug and I told him to stuff it no seeds when I cop it Gotta stay lowkey cause them haters is watching But you n***a's don't get it so I'm changing the topic I'm on my own plane smoking blunts in the co*kpit My hitters pop sh** you duck and drop sh** Eyes on me on my 2Pac sh** Feelin' like Hitman on my two Glock sh** I'm trying to keep cool like too hot sh** So I'm chillin in the pool with like 2 hot chicks I've been in the game I'm the rap Mike Vick Flow too sick got haters looking sick n***a's falling off they ain't sticking to the script I ain't falling off I'm a keep it on my hip King of the South but my name ain't tip Got your b**h in my ride and we going for a trip If you look me in my eyes you gon' see I never trip I roll up a blunt puff pip, blessed with the gift to spit lyrical clips My mind flips I load up and spit mind clips Now I forgot how I got here but I ain't worried about that [?] Be I be back