A Damn Classic lyrics

[Intro: StanWill]
(sh*t, that's a Danny G beat)
Huh, ayy, damn

[Verse 1: StanWill]
Huh, b*tch, I'm energized
Tippy-toes say "43", this a different size
I can thrust up, you f*cked up, we live different lives
I'll blow the cape off him, Glock got some Kryptonite
Text her at 10:17 like, "Put the WAP on me"
Turned the trap to Benihana's, I got the chop on me
Unc' running 'round like Dwayne, he got the rock on him
Funny how the green light stopped him, that's the Glock on me
I just hit Walmart and caused a fire drill
Tron in the Challey, he just love how the tires squeal
b*tch want a scammer, she wanna know what it's like, for real
That damn Hutch, he hit my neck with some ice, for real

[Verse 2: TrDee]
Yo damn b*tch, she done hit me with some crazy head
They can start the beef but we ain't stopping till the n*ggas dead
Knew this sh*t was real when I was making money in a bed
Knew I really had a roll when it was falling when I spread
Knew she really had me bent 'cause she want me to punch her rent
They get caught, you keep it pushing, boy, you better hop the fence
I can really get you money, all you need is common sense
I can hit them n*ggas coming, ain't no need to call a hit
She telling me that pus*y mine, you really think it's only yours?
Told that boy to use his mind before we mop it with the floor
Tell that n*gga check the camera before he answer any door
Used to f*ck up all the Wally's, now we hitting every store
[Verse 3: BabyTron]
b*tch a demon, whip a Demon, sh*t, I guess I live in Hell
Amiri thigh pads, sh*t is looking like the NFL
Headhunter posted up on sweeters, they like LOL
You gon' bring yo motherf*cking knuckles? That's a tale, for real
Glock .30 looking like that b*tch off a di*k pill
I can wake up in a p*ssy bed and be the sh*t still
High as hell dunking on yo b*tch, I'm finna windmill
Chain ain't make the waitress wanna f*ck, I bet the tip will
Oh okay, your socks blower badge, Hall of Fame
Damn, b*tch, yo breath hot as hell, yo sh*t like a flame
Gave her good di*k, now she tryna hide my PlayStation
Sniper catch you walking out yo door, yeah, he gon' end patience

[Verse 4: StanWill]
b*tch tugging on my Amiris asking where that p*nis at
I think these n*ggas flat-chested hoes, they ain't see no racks
b*tch looking at my drip like, "Where the f*ck is Nemo at?"
Walking out the set like, sh*t, I left some cheese in Saks
Kenzo with the stick, huh, this ain't no Tigers game
Plastic with the chip, huh, this how the swipers play
Catch me with the blick, huh, boy, don't die today
I'll break his f*cking surfboard, tryna ride this wave

[Verse 5: TrDee]
It ain't Tuesday, he gon' still eat a couple shells
I could get you what you need, they gotta send it through the mail
Like some teachers hating on me, n*ggas wanna see me fail
Up the trophies on the 'Gram, I know some n*ggas' faces still
Wealthy on, Crocs on, still hit yo b*tch
Posted with the Punch God, b*tch think I'm rich
Some blues on me, blue coat, n*ggas think I Crip
Mask on, shooting sh*t, I'ma call him RIP
[Verse 6: BabyTron]
di*khead, b*tch cried her heart out and I laughed at her
b*tch, I shop-shop, Saks knows me as a bag dragger
I'm just tryna win, if it makes sense, pass the bag backwards
b*tch, I'm big high, catch me drooling on a crab platter
80K in dubs, backpack, I had to jam pack
Halfback and touchdown, I'm OT, I'm Scat Packing
Think the hoes love me, half staring, other half laughing
I ain't gon' lie, Stan and Dee, this a damn classic

[Outro: BabyTron]
(sh*t, that's a Danny G beat)
Ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, sh*ttyBoyz