Skeme - Still Gittin Lyrics

Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money
I could run through the cash
Like it really ain't nothin'
Paper cuts on my hand
Throw me through these blue hun'eds
Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money

I'm a pull up on your block in that Europe
Put up twenty thousand for that two door
Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money
Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money

Whole lot of money in this bitch right now
I'm the shit right now
Loadin' up the motherf*ckin' clip right now
You could get chipped right now
Broke back then, but I'm rich right now
So, broke nigga, keep quiet, pipe down
We don't want to hear
Not a motherf*ckin' sound
Lil' nigga, can't you see it's goin' down?
Pull up in that California 'Rari like, 'Skrr'
Or better yet, I pull up in
That brand new Porsche like, 'Skrr'
Then it be right on the curb
Tell me what you heard 'bout a nigga
Whole lot of guap
That's the word 'bout a nigga
Buy a new crib, sorry 'bout it, nigga
As far as haters' conversations, I
Ain't worried 'bout it, nigga
I just did fifty K, tell my dealer
Reach for these diamonds
Get that real good of your medulla
These bitches want to ride on
My digit like a hoop
I just want some brain in this bitch
I need a tutor
Even though I got a ripe cheque
I'm still wit' them shooters
Been wit' them since day one
Them boys don't play none
I got my change up, still
I ain't changed none, f*ck y'all niggas

Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money
I could run through the cash
Like it really ain't nothin'
Paper cuts on my hand
Throw me through these blue hun'eds
Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money
I'm a pull up on your block in that Europe
Put up twenty thousand for that two door
Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money
Yeah, a young nigga thuggin'
But he still gettin' money

F*ck all the rumors and what they assume
I've been the trillest in the room
Lately, a nigga flow so in tune
I'm shootin' out rocks from the moon
I'm worth my weight in Cuban links of gold
F*ck them and they silver spoons
I got soldiers down to die for my car
Shout-out my squadron and my platoon
Ho-niggas been afraid, bitch, I'm a renegade
Run keys and Ps up the interstate
I eeny, meeny lames, you could die any day
We never f*cked wit' you, anyway
These niggas fabricate
I'm rockin' foreign fabrics
Rap 'bout cash that I really make
I done made history know if they mention me
I got them hit's like I'm Willie Mays
I supply my hood wit' choppers
If we spot a op
We'll give him a quick trip to the doctor
Brazy like Mad Max in Shottas
Murder, no, Biggie ain't askin' who shot you
I have your whole family dressed
Up in suit's like Sinatra
This shit ain't new to me
Ain't no ten, shout-out to Eulogy
Your or me
You gon' die first just cause you're
Of no use to me
You should be tryin' to get money
Not tryin' my gangsta
Lil' brah, that there is a silly decision
We shoot wit' aim and precision
All of that talkin' gon' end
And you no longer livin', my nigga

See, this what this shit about, my nigga
Whole lot of money
Shit on you hatin'-ass niggas, five mill up