Yung Simmie - Dead Beat lyrics
rate me(Verse)
Man these nigga's faker than silicon titties
And I expose the fake too much realness in me
I pour up the Henny, I smoke till I'm dizzy
Stuffin the Philly, your girl on my dick while I'm doin my thizzy
Like I was Drizzy, nothin was the same but my name is Simmie
Your girl give me brain while I'm speeding the Hemi
But nigga's don't hear me til I get it tripping now you hit with the Semi
I'm putting in a clip and I'm a rip till it's empty
I'm pointin at your head and you can't run cuz you stranded
You fuckin 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 fuck with the purp
I embarrass these nigga's now they call me the jerk
These joke ass nigga's ain't puttin in work
Meanwhile I go to work with my name on my shirt
Cuz you know I gotta get it cuz I came from the dirt
Mama said bless em I'm a take em to church
Now I'm schoolin these nigga's better tuck in your shirt
Now my main bitch keep a shank in the purse
Cuz you won't catch me slippin 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 nigga 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 ass nigga who can never convert
To a real ass nigga that you hear on this verse
I give it to you live you just heard that shit first
I'm a give your bitch some water and she keep with the thirst
I'm a make your bitch my bitch and keep my work in the purse
(Verse)
Stunt on my haters I ball like the Lakers
Dunkin on haters I'm tall as the rim if I stand on my paper
I came to eat but I'm servin these nigga's like I am the waiter
Call Tony Hawk cuz I'm grindin I'm grindin like I am a skater
Duckin 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
Cuz all of my nigga's want it
All of my nigga's on it
All of my nigga's ready
They like where the fuck my opponent
They comin and now you runnin
Bandcamp drummers drummin
Headcount hunters huntin
Grindtime countin hundreds
Flex time hella stuntin
Loudpack smell like onions
Marked up hella muggin
Gold teeth hella thuggin
In the cut rollin up something
Black shades on I ain't worried about nothin
Smokin OG you ain't got what I'm puffin
That straight from the plug and I told him to stuff it no seeds when I cop it
Gotta stay lowkey cuz them haters is watchin
But you nigga's don't get it so I'm changin the topic
I'm on my own plane smokin blunts in the cockpit
My hitters pop shit you duck and drop shit
Eyes on me on my 2Pac shit
Feeling like Hitman on my two Glock shit
I'm tryinna to keep cool like too hot shit
So I'm chillin in the pool with like two hot chicks
I've been in the game I'm the rap Mike Vick
Flow too sick got haters lookin sick
Nigga's fallin off they ain't stickin to the script
I ain't fallin off I'm a keep it on my hip
King of the South but my name ain't tip
Got your bitch in my ride and we goin for a trip
If you look me in my eyes you gonna 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
