Payday lyrics

[Verse 1: TrDee]
I'm OT, somewhere chilling on the beach
Fly a lil' baddie out, only if you be discreet
Don't let the glasses fool you, I am not a geek
I'm the type to still run it up if I ain't have no feet
di*k put her straight to sleep, this some NyQuil
Still reminiscing 'bout the wounds that did not heal
Damn, this b*tch thicker than some oatmeal
Please tell me how you slid down and ain't get no kill

[Verse 2: BabyTron]
Hunnid rounder, leave a Scat Pack with no wheels
I don't gotta let that b*tch off, I bet bro will
Shooting layups but you miss them b*tches? You got no skill
Have my shooters run the triangle like I'm coach Phil
I'm too blowed
Three-five of the White Runtz, this sh*t too strong
Bankroll sеven-seven likе Manute Bol
Push a button in the spaceship, now the coupe gone

[Verse 3: StanWill]
RIP Virgil, if I spin around, it's a X on me
In a bay, thirty in my clip, that's a Steph on me
Like it's payday, f*ck around, drop a check on me
Pull up, drop fifty, I ain't even gotta stretch on me
Drop a couple shells, f*ck around, get his taco blew
I don't like to wrestle, if it's up, put the Glock on you
Lil' bro ain't jamming 201s if he slide on you
You ain't doing sh*t for yo team, you don't lob no 'oops
[Verse 4: TrDee]
Tryna get a mill', I don't care about popularity
They tryna rap like us like a parrot
Did the dash, she like, "Hold on stop, boy, you scaring me"
Pull up with one or seven hoes, Linsanity
Heard you out here running 'round like a headless chicken
Bent her over then I slammed dunk like I'm Miles Bridges
n*ggas tryna take a mile? We'll give him inches
The money counter keep jamming, give me some assistance

[Verse 5: BabyTron]
Scam this, jam that, I don't sell grams
You headed towards work, I'm just waiting on the mailman
Off a V cut, I need a Phantom, hot as hell, man
Get the payment then I block his ass, can you spell "ham"?
B22s, Dior kicks, this Dior drip
Hotter than a f*ck, one me, I got four blicks
Got this sh*t up out the mud, wasn't born rich
Scam star, rap star, headed towards the Forbes list

[Verse 6: StanWill]
Push start the whip, hop in and I stab off
Pull up on her, Goose X Dior, she gon' grab balls
Been punching five plus, I been doing half offs
Swinging sticks at the opps like they throwing fast balls
Keep a sack, got the hoes tryna tackle me
b*tch put that crazy head on, she done baffled me
I was in school with more pape' than a faculty
In Miami I was hitting hoes with the plastic cheeks