Big Trippin’ lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Huh
Ayy, huh, ayy, huh (Reuel, stop playing with these n*ggas)

[Verse]
b*tch said, "This ain't what I'm used to"
Tool on me, I'll hit a n*gga in his loose screw
I'm connected every f*cking where like some Bluetooth
Huh, yeah, yeah
Only use my hands to grab the pistol if it's confrontation
Brodie out his sh*t, he specialize in turning opps to patients
Cut into the waitress like, "My b*tch like her lobster Cajun"
Tron high as hell, all he do is roll up za and face it
Blicky poking out the skinny jeans, you see the pistol print
Wouldn't waste a bullet on this chump, got him pistol whipped
Wakе up and throw my tech on and I ain't quit my shift
If she point at it, I grab it off the shеlf 'cause my b*tch the sh*t
Like, huh, I know you sick that you missed yo Lyft
Dirty-ass McQueens on, that walk around with no whip
I know you taste my di*k a lil' bit when you kiss yo b*tch
Surfing on the web with a punch knowing this gon' hit
Huh, I'm a swiper and a scammer
I think I'm from Ragnarok, how I'm riding with the hammer
If you catch me in the store, just know I'm sliding with them jammers
She something like Teanna Trump, how she slobbing it on camera
Ayy, you could probably jump in the ocean, you couldn't drip like me
Huh, even if you untie yo shoes, couldn't trip like me
Huh, you could have the f*cking bubble guts, couldn't sh*t like me
Huh, yo b*tch gon' choose 'cause she know you ain't sh*t like me
I check-out and do my giffy dance
Wouldn't even square up with a opp if I had fifty hands
Riding 'round with them racks out, think I'm the Titty Man
BabyTron really up some sh*t, you know Jimmy scam
Yeah, you know Jimmy scam, n*gga
b*tch, ayy, huh, yeah
Yeah, I could up a fifty on a 'cause I really can
Riding 'round with that f*cker out, quick to burn a n*gga
Unc' running 'round with that, quick to serve a n*gga
b*tch bougie like, nah, for real, quick to curve a n*gga
Gang need new tires for the Chally, he keep swerving n*ggas
Yeah, goddamn, Reuel, you tripped on this one, I ain't gon' lie
Ayy, huh, b*tch reaching for the MAG, might f*ck around and blow her ass
Ayy, huh, really just f*cked off the name, didn't even know her ass
Really at the strip for lamb chops but I'll throw some cash
Huh, they like, "Stan, you the GOAT", huh
You'll hesitate to spend a band, boy, you broke, huh
Boy, you really safer than a b*tch like you don't stink
b*tch came with a lil' friend, I like 'em both, huh
Huh, but Dee the freaky one
If you talking 'bout a MAG, just know I keep me one
If you talking 'bout a bag, just know I be in one
But you ain't really talking 'bout sh*t, boy, you ain't seen a crumb
Tripping up at Neiman Marcus, pulling out the racks and sh*t
My b*tch want Dior and Alexander, she don't ask for di*k
What the f*ck? There go the boys, bro, stash the blick