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作曲 : Gary Lucas
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
Who got the keys to my mother****in' Bimmer?
*****, I ain't no, ain't no, yeah
I want a 'Rari, I'm feelin' godly (woah)
Wonder how much that gon' cost me,
they feelin' saucy (buck, buck)
Niggas 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' ****in' 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' (oh, oh)
And I've been hard at work, yeah,
ho, you just hardly workin'
If it wasn't for this rap shit, 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, oh no
I got some new wheels, uh-uh
Tired of kids, they think that we in school still, ah-ah
Play me, you gon' find out how the tool feel, ah-ah
**** around and you gon' find out who's real, ah-ah
Who, yeah, ah-ah
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
Who got the keys to my mother****in' bimmer?
*****, I used to dream of this
I ain't that nigga you could
Play with, nigga, that's dangerous (oh)
Told 'em I was raised in the basement
Twin AKs in the playpen
Take your face, rearrange it
I can turn eggs into bacon (yeah)
I can serve base with a apron
Niggas 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 nigga, that's bad news
I don't like hassles (I don't like hassles)
Suckin' down Remy and I'm feelin' like Papoose
Hope I don't crash you (hope I don't crash you)
Lil' bird ***** with me and I call a ho Zazu
Mind your bidness (mind your bidness)
**** your opinion, nobody asked you, woah
Look (yeah), this that wap-wap shit (yeah)
Shit'll make a nigga wanna stop, drop, shit (buck)
Roll when you hit 'em with the Glock-Glock, ***** (buck, buck)
Semi-automatic if a nigga really think he want static
Now a nigga doin' pop-pop, *****
Oh, you thought you was a hotshot, *****? (Oh)
Now you want a crown with a hotshot, ***** (hey)
Nigga, I was raised on the block-block, ***** (*****)
This is my time, no stopwatch, ***** (*****)
All of my whips is top-notch, ***** (buck, buck)
How to get a plug at the chop shop, ***** (buck, buck)
Even my son got pop rocks, ***** (buck, buck)
****in' your *****, don't **** block, ***** (buck, buck)
I get your *****, I'ma toss that ***** (buck, buck)
She gon' ride my drop top, ***** (buck, buck)
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
Who got the keys to my mother****in' Beamer?
*****, I used to dream of this
I ain't that nigga you could
I got some bands, now they got they hands out (hey)
All them hoes that have a man now, they pull my pants down
They know they don't got no chance now, *****,
I'm the man now (hey, hey)
Used to be my only fan, she got onlyfans now
Yeah, I'm swervin', I got road rage, I feel OJ
I don't wear no ****in' 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 wearin' the privilege of poverty livin'
And I ain't had nonthin' but scraps (yeah)
I had to watch niggas 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
Ooh (ooh)
I had a Bugatti and then I woke up in the trap (yeah)
I had a couple of friends I left in the past
'Cause they don't do nothin' but cap (yeah)
I know a couple of niggas that don't know the bidness
And they do nothin' but rap (yeah)
**** it, I guess I'll just shut up and drive
I got me a Beamer, I'm runnin' the lap
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
Who got the keys to my mother****in' Beamer?
*****, I used to dream of this
I ain't that nigga you could
Yeah
Put me inside of a room with niggas you think
that are better than me
I crush them inevitably
And leave them as dead as can be
That go to any nigga 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 nigga 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
Nigga, 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 ándale
Got a one-inch blade, get cut then we run that fade
I ain't really with the dumb ass shade
I come back brave, get cut when I run back sayin'
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
Yeah, ayy
All the girls, dem sugar
I'm a trill ass nigga
I'm a Mike Jack thriller
I'm a VJ killer
I'ma get em, long-range Reggie Miller
Watch me swerve on a nigga
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
Yeah
All the girls, dem sugar
I'm a thrill ass nigga (buck, buck)
I'm a Mike Jack thriller (buck, buck)
I'm a VJ killer
I'ma get em, long-range Reggie Miller
Watch me swerve on a nigga
Zim zimma (zim zimma)
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