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Sadfriendd - jumpin! Lyrics



Sadfriendd - jumpin! Lyrics




[ Featuring Ghostface Playa ]

Ayy, wait, on the front seat
Came in this bitch, with a Glock in the drum seat (ayy)
No rush, wait, pullin' till we stay in, get a f*cker a concussion (ayy)
Screams of a raw mothaf*cka, I'm disgusting
Wait, f*ck, that's what's a goddamn fraction
I'ma jump him, that's where a f*cker couldn't function
When I come in, got the grind up, and diamonds on me
But that bitch is like: "Ah shit"

Gettin' real with a stick (woo!)
It's like who feelin' what I'm with (ayy, wait)
When I watch 'em in the face, till I break my wrist (wait)
In the brand whip, make a mof*ckin' stick
You break through my head, make a mof*cka drip (wait)
I've thought it with a thottie and she go get a body
Pull up with a shorty, zoom with the flesh
Grab anyone who could get it
Cause I do not f*ck with anybody (wait)
And I said he comin' up
And within a minute, he just like a body

Makes the price to, move it, move it
Bad bitch on me, try to dance right music (ayy, wait, wait)
Move to the rhythm, don't f*ck up the movement
Big Glock on me, he run up the stupid
Wait, bad bitch on me, showing me to turn the bass up
Big rack on me, he could listen with my bass on
I risk, my wrist, I'm in the f*ckin' place, uh
Baddest grind, I got like a f*ckin' day, yuh (ayy)

Worry? I'm not hurried to get paid up
You should've worked for the Glock and then get ya face up
Walk in the club and make with this bitch, uh
Out with your bitch, like man, where's this bitch, uh? (wait, wait)
Hit him with the smoke, it's a grand, with this bitch, uh (ayy, wait)
No, shorty show my bitch, with my man, where this bitch, uh? (wait, wait)
I could send a hater to a fan, in this bitch, uh
I just had to spend a couple bands in this bitch, uh

Ayy, wait, on the front seat
Came in this bitch, with a Glock in the drum seat (ayy)
No rush, wait, pullin' till we stay in, get a f*cker a concussion (ayy)
Screams of a raw mothaf*cka, I'm disgusting
You don't want that he don't want the smoke
Eat my stock and then he got a score
Eat my Glock and I make that explode (ayy, wait)
Run up on me mothaf*ckas, where you gon' flow?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

Ayy, wait, on the front seat
Came in this bitch, with a Glock in the drum seat (ayy)
No rush, wait, pullin' till we stay in, get a f*cker a concussion (ayy)
Screams of a raw mothaf*cka, I'm disgusting
Wait, f*ck, that's what's a goddamn fraction
I'ma jump him, that's where a f*cker couldn't function
When I come in, got the grind up, and diamonds on me
But that bitch is like: "Ah shit"

Gettin' real with a stick (woo!)
It's like who feelin' what I'm with (ayy, wait)
When I watch 'em in the face, till I break my wrist (wait)
In the brand whip, make a mof*ckin' stick
You break through my head, make a mof*cka drip (wait)
I've thought it with a thottie and she go get a body
Pull up with a shorty, zoom with the flesh
Grab anyone who could get it
Cause I do not f*ck with anybody (wait)
And I said he comin' up
And within a minute, he just like a body

Makes the price to, move it, move it
Bad bitch on me, try to dance right music (ayy, wait, wait)
Move to the rhythm, don't f*ck up the movement
Big Glock on me, he run up the stupid
Wait, bad bitch on me, showing me to turn the bass up
Big rack on me, he could listen with my bass on
I risk, my wrist, I'm in the f*ckin' place, uh
Baddest grind, I got like a f*ckin' day, yuh (ayy)

Worry? I'm not hurried to get paid up
You should've worked for the Glock and then get ya face up
Walk in the club and make with this bitch, uh
Out with your bitch, like man, where's this bitch, uh? (wait, wait)
Hit him with the smoke, it's a grand, with this bitch, uh (ayy, wait)
No, shorty show my bitch, with my man, where this bitch, uh? (wait, wait)
I could send a hater to a fan, in this bitch, uh
I just had to spend a couple bands in this bitch, uh

Ayy, wait, on the front seat
Came in this bitch, with a Glock in the drum seat (ayy)
No rush, wait, pullin' till we stay in, get a f*cker a concussion (ayy)
Screams of a raw mothaf*cka, I'm disgusting
You don't want that he don't want the smoke
Eat my stock and then he got a score
Eat my Glock and I make that explode (ayy, wait)
Run up on me mothaf*ckas, where you gon' flow?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Aaron Brandford, Makar Aleksandrovich Fadeev
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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