Joyner Lucas - Zim zimma lyrics

I want a ‘Rari, I’m feelin’ godly Wonder how much that gon’ cost me, they feelin’ saucy (Buck, buck) ni**as know that I’m a problem, they’ll never solve me (Buck, buck, buck) If you came to start some drama, then bring a army I’ve been goin’ fu*kin’ fast and it got me swervin’ I know that I’m a child of God, but they want me cursed in I’ve been trappin’ out the Ozark, I’m Marty Byrdin’ And I’ve been hard at work, yeah, ho, you just hardly workin’ If it wasn’t for this rap sh*t, I’d be movin’ kilos Front the pack from my connect then cop a few casinos Used to fake it ’til I made it just to boost my ego Stashin’ money in my shirt, they thought I grew some chichos I got some new wheels, Tired of kids, they think that we in school still,ah Play me, you gon’ find out how the tool feel, fu*k around and you gon’ find out who’s real [Chorus] Zim Zimma Who got the keys to my motherfu*kin’ Bimmer? b*tch, I used to dream of this I ain’t that ni**a you could [Verse 2] Play with, ni**a, that’s dangerous Told ’em I was raised in the basement Twin AKs in the playpen Take your face, rearrange it I can turn eggs into bacon I can serve base with a apron ni**as been waitin’ to hate it (True) I got a Beamer and I’m anxious to race it Vroom right past you (Vroom right past you) Cops keep followin’ a ni**a, that’s bad news I don’t like hassles (I don’t like hassles) su*k it down Remy and I’m feelin’ like Papoose Hope I don’t crash you (Hope I don’t crash you) Lil’ bird b*tch with me and I call a ho Zazu Mind your bidness (Mind your bidness) fu*k your opinion, nobody asked you Look (Yeah), this that WAP-WAP sh*t sh*t’ll make a ni**a wanna stop, drop, sh*t (Buck) Roll when you hit ’em with the Glock-Glock, b*tch (Buck, buck) Semi-automatic if a ni**a really think he want static Now a ni**a doin’ pop-pop, b*tch Oh, you thought you was a hotshot, b*tch? Now you want a crown with a hotshot, b*tch ni**a, I was raised on the block-block, b*tch This is my time, no stopwatch, b*tch All of my whips is top-notch, b*tch How to get a plug at the chop shop, b*tch Even my son got pop rocks, b*tch fu*kin’ your b*tch, don’t co*k block, b*tch I get your b*tch, at my casa, b*tch She gon’ ride my drop top, b*tch [Chorus] Zim Zimma Who got the keys to my motherfu*kin’ Bimmer? b*tch, I used to dream of this I ain’t that ni**a you could [Verse 3] I got some bands, now they got they hands out All them hoes that have a man now, they pull my pants down They know they don’t got no chance now, b*tch, I’m the man now Used to be my only fan, she got OnlyFans now Yeah, I’m swervin’, I got road rage, I feel like OJ I don’t wear no fu*kin’ Dolce, I smell like olé (Joyner) I might go back to my old ways, she want her soul saved I done traded in my soulmate and got a gold chain Okay I came up with the privilege of poverty livin’ and I ain’t had nonthin’ but scraps (Yeah) I had to watch ni**as winnin’ and drivin’ in foreigns and I was just stuck in the back (Word) I had to learn me the bidness so once I applied it, I made me a couple of racks (Yeah) I had ménages with Nicki and Cardi and Megan and then I woke up from a nap I had a Bugatti and then I woke up in the trap I had a couple of friends I left in the past ’cause they don’t do nothin’ but cap I know a couple of ni**as that don’t know the bidness and they do nothin’ but rap fu*k it I guess I’ll just shut up and drive, I got me a Beamer, I’m runnin’ the lap [Chorus] Zim Zimma (Zim Zimma) Who got the keys to my motherfu*kin’ Bimmer? b*tch, I used to dream of this I ain’t that ni**a you could [Verse 4] Yeah, put me inside of a room with ni**as you think that are better than me I crush them inevitably, and leave them as dead as can be That go to any ni**a who’s steppin’ to me, they all come second to me My words are weapons to me- I burn it, second degree And get it, and I’m sick of any ni**a that’s sick, and I got it sick and shiverin’ Even Ritalin couldn’t get rid of the kid in him You gotta be kiddin’, I’m trippin’, I kinda feel like a kid again (Rah, rah, rah) And, yeah, I got somethin’ to say I ain’t with the games, I ain’t come to play ni**a, you confused, you a broad, go tuck your leg You trapped in the wrong body like Young M.A (Buck, buck) I need my money like andale Got a one-inch blade, get cut if you run that fade I ain’t really with the dumb ass shade I come back brave, get cut when I run back sayin’ [Outro] Zim Zimma (Zim Zimma) All the girls, dem sugar I’m a trill ass ni**a, I’m a Mike Jack thriller I’m a VJ killer, I’ma get ’em long-range, Reggie Miller Watch me swerve on a ni**a Zim Zimma All the girls, dem sugar I’m a trill ass ni**a (Buck, buck), I’m a Mike Jack thriller I’m a VJ killer, I’ma get ’em long-range, Reggie Miller Watch me swerve on a ni**aaa