Life is strange, so shout out to Jack Hopkins
I'm putting shins to chins, you pussies slap-boxing
Barely graduated and didn't make it to college
Now I'm spitting knowledge, that boom-bap doctorate
No-show socks, rocking $20 watches
Self-conscious rock 'n' roll kid, spitting that hot shit
Genrefied lyricists, hiding out in your boxes
I'm thinking outside of them, putting flows in a coffin
I'm talking about rap pussies who make me act pushy
VA where I come from, but I'm rapping kinda Flatbush-y
I don't need much, titty rings and a fat tushy
I'm spitting & drinking a 40, so my flow is kinda backwashy
I've been smooth talking just hoping I get a kiss
And I've been jay-walking just hoping that I get hit
And I've been non-stopping just hoping a make it big
And I've been back-shotting just hoping for no kids
No mids in the Dutch
Ain't no chicken in the lunch
No clue if I'm P.C., I'm a little out of touch
No apologies, body beats, spitting honestly
I'll write a mixtape in an hour, I'm working harder that Cardi B
Gotta be that Biff kid
Pardon me I'm ignant
Coming in with that sick shit
Don't you get it twisted
I'm wavy as f*ck, I know you getting seasick
I'll spit a sixteen, body a f*cking beat bitch
Rebellious jealousy, celebrating celibacy
Smoking bowls of that evergreen
Eating carrots and celery
Intrusive thoughts
Followed by amusing plots of these elusive thots and their 2-story homes on their exclusive blocks
Thinking, "How do I get it?"
Need the money and the hoes
The shoes and the clothes
I wanna use the flows
To count up the guap, with a dub in my sock
Money flex with the squat, every 2X in the shop
My trigger finger's satiated, I don't need no f*cking pump
I'll body all these boom-bap beats from the f*cking jump, yeah
I got sick of slipping the clutch, so now I'm hitting the Dutch
I'm paddle shifting in the wagon with some bitches to f*ck, yeah
Yeah you know I'm paddle shifting the whip
Yeah babygirl ain't rev matching but she handle a stick
She handle a dick
Sitting on it, give it a twist
I lick up a spliff, and twist up the tip
I'm lighting the shit, I'm writing the shit
I know she liking the shit
I thought that we was just friends, and now I'm piping the bitch, yeah
Biff Webster - Fisticuffs Lyrics
Biff Webster - Fisticuffs Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Life is strange, so shout out to Jack Hopkins
I'm putting shins to chins, you pussies slap-boxing
Barely graduated and didn't make it to college
Now I'm spitting knowledge, that boom-bap doctorate
No-show socks, rocking $20 watches
Self-conscious rock 'n' roll kid, spitting that hot shit
Genrefied lyricists, hiding out in your boxes
I'm thinking outside of them, putting flows in a coffin
I'm talking about rap pussies who make me act pushy
VA where I come from, but I'm rapping kinda Flatbush-y
I don't need much, titty rings and a fat tushy
I'm spitting & drinking a 40, so my flow is kinda backwashy
I've been smooth talking just hoping I get a kiss
And I've been jay-walking just hoping that I get hit
And I've been non-stopping just hoping a make it big
And I've been back-shotting just hoping for no kids
No mids in the Dutch
Ain't no chicken in the lunch
No clue if I'm P.C., I'm a little out of touch
No apologies, body beats, spitting honestly
I'll write a mixtape in an hour, I'm working harder that Cardi B
Gotta be that Biff kid
Pardon me I'm ignant
Coming in with that sick shit
Don't you get it twisted
I'm wavy as f*ck, I know you getting seasick
I'll spit a sixteen, body a f*cking beat bitch
Rebellious jealousy, celebrating celibacy
Smoking bowls of that evergreen
Eating carrots and celery
Intrusive thoughts
Followed by amusing plots of these elusive thots and their 2-story homes on their exclusive blocks
Thinking, "How do I get it?"
Need the money and the hoes
The shoes and the clothes
I wanna use the flows
To count up the guap, with a dub in my sock
Money flex with the squat, every 2X in the shop
My trigger finger's satiated, I don't need no f*cking pump
I'll body all these boom-bap beats from the f*cking jump, yeah
I got sick of slipping the clutch, so now I'm hitting the Dutch
I'm paddle shifting in the wagon with some bitches to f*ck, yeah
Yeah you know I'm paddle shifting the whip
Yeah babygirl ain't rev matching but she handle a stick
She handle a dick
Sitting on it, give it a twist
I lick up a spliff, and twist up the tip
I'm lighting the shit, I'm writing the shit
I know she liking the shit
I thought that we was just friends, and now I'm piping the bitch, yeah
I'm putting shins to chins, you pussies slap-boxing
Barely graduated and didn't make it to college
Now I'm spitting knowledge, that boom-bap doctorate
No-show socks, rocking $20 watches
Self-conscious rock 'n' roll kid, spitting that hot shit
Genrefied lyricists, hiding out in your boxes
I'm thinking outside of them, putting flows in a coffin
I'm talking about rap pussies who make me act pushy
VA where I come from, but I'm rapping kinda Flatbush-y
I don't need much, titty rings and a fat tushy
I'm spitting & drinking a 40, so my flow is kinda backwashy
I've been smooth talking just hoping I get a kiss
And I've been jay-walking just hoping that I get hit
And I've been non-stopping just hoping a make it big
And I've been back-shotting just hoping for no kids
No mids in the Dutch
Ain't no chicken in the lunch
No clue if I'm P.C., I'm a little out of touch
No apologies, body beats, spitting honestly
I'll write a mixtape in an hour, I'm working harder that Cardi B
Gotta be that Biff kid
Pardon me I'm ignant
Coming in with that sick shit
Don't you get it twisted
I'm wavy as f*ck, I know you getting seasick
I'll spit a sixteen, body a f*cking beat bitch
Rebellious jealousy, celebrating celibacy
Smoking bowls of that evergreen
Eating carrots and celery
Intrusive thoughts
Followed by amusing plots of these elusive thots and their 2-story homes on their exclusive blocks
Thinking, "How do I get it?"
Need the money and the hoes
The shoes and the clothes
I wanna use the flows
To count up the guap, with a dub in my sock
Money flex with the squat, every 2X in the shop
My trigger finger's satiated, I don't need no f*cking pump
I'll body all these boom-bap beats from the f*cking jump, yeah
I got sick of slipping the clutch, so now I'm hitting the Dutch
I'm paddle shifting in the wagon with some bitches to f*ck, yeah
Yeah you know I'm paddle shifting the whip
Yeah babygirl ain't rev matching but she handle a stick
She handle a dick
Sitting on it, give it a twist
I lick up a spliff, and twist up the tip
I'm lighting the shit, I'm writing the shit
I know she liking the shit
I thought that we was just friends, and now I'm piping the bitch, yeah
Writer: Biff Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid