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Hit Stick Video (MV)




Performed By: Yictitan
Length: 3:17
Written by: Skye Parham




Yictitan - Hit Stick Lyrics
Official




I don't need a rich bitch
I need one that's hungry
Was down bad now we rich rich
Now we counting money
Pull up with that hit stick
Looking like who want it
He mad that he can't flex like this
Nigga you so funny
Ice cream colored paint up on the whip cause it's a foreign
And I got some questions why yo clique don't know yo story
Big racks in these Balmain Jeans paper blue like Dory
In the whip I'm switchin lanes, I ain't talkin Tory, Uh
Step in Margiela, we aim at yo fella make a wrong move
Can't get on my level that nigga a rebel don't follow no rules
Blowin up like 9/11 send you straight to heaven ain't leaving no clues
Remember when we was so broke now these diamonds
They choke and we can pick and choose, uh
And this watch is a Richard Mille, mama we gon get that house on the hill
And my chick red bottoms her heels, if you play with the gang you get killed
For real
And I drip flavor like Mio
For Real
I don't need a rich bitch
I need one that's hungry
Was down bad now we rich rich
Now we counting money
Pull up with that hit stick
Looking like who want it
He mad that he can't flex like this
Nigga you so funny
Ice cream colored paint up on the whip cause it's a foreign
And I got some questions why yo clique don't know yo story
Big racks in these Balmain Jeans paper blue like Dory
In the whip I'm switchin lanes, I ain't talkin Tory, Uh
Pouring a 4 in the faygo
Ducked off counting these pesos
Young nigga so hot so he lay low
When I pull up I might Range Rove
Counting these racks I might save those
Matter fact I might go flip, uh
Everyday taking a risk, uh
I had to ice out the wrist, uh
I had to ice out my bitch, uh
Don't give a damn bout no diss, uh
You could get hit up like this, uh
No you can't do it like this
Droppin the top on my clique, uh
No you can't do it like this
Knocking yo bitch off the list, uh
And my bands up
And I got my mans' up
Put this shit on camera
Posted up on Candler
I don't need a rich bitch
I need one that's hungry
Was down bad now we rich rich
Now we counting money
Pull up with that hit stick
Looking like who want it
He mad that he can't flex like this
Nigga you so funny
Ice cream colored paint up on the whip cause it's a foreign
And I got some questions why yo clique don't know yo story
Big racks in these Balmain Jeans paper blue like Dory
In the whip I'm switchin lanes, I ain't talkin Tory, Uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




I don't need a rich bitch
I need one that's hungry
Was down bad now we rich rich
Now we counting money
Pull up with that hit stick
Looking like who want it
He mad that he can't flex like this
Nigga you so funny
Ice cream colored paint up on the whip cause it's a foreign
And I got some questions why yo clique don't know yo story
Big racks in these Balmain Jeans paper blue like Dory
In the whip I'm switchin lanes, I ain't talkin Tory, Uh
Step in Margiela, we aim at yo fella make a wrong move
Can't get on my level that nigga a rebel don't follow no rules
Blowin up like 9/11 send you straight to heaven ain't leaving no clues
Remember when we was so broke now these diamonds
They choke and we can pick and choose, uh
And this watch is a Richard Mille, mama we gon get that house on the hill
And my chick red bottoms her heels, if you play with the gang you get killed
For real
And I drip flavor like Mio
For Real
I don't need a rich bitch
I need one that's hungry
Was down bad now we rich rich
Now we counting money
Pull up with that hit stick
Looking like who want it
He mad that he can't flex like this
Nigga you so funny
Ice cream colored paint up on the whip cause it's a foreign
And I got some questions why yo clique don't know yo story
Big racks in these Balmain Jeans paper blue like Dory
In the whip I'm switchin lanes, I ain't talkin Tory, Uh
Pouring a 4 in the faygo
Ducked off counting these pesos
Young nigga so hot so he lay low
When I pull up I might Range Rove
Counting these racks I might save those
Matter fact I might go flip, uh
Everyday taking a risk, uh
I had to ice out the wrist, uh
I had to ice out my bitch, uh
Don't give a damn bout no diss, uh
You could get hit up like this, uh
No you can't do it like this
Droppin the top on my clique, uh
No you can't do it like this
Knocking yo bitch off the list, uh
And my bands up
And I got my mans' up
Put this shit on camera
Posted up on Candler
I don't need a rich bitch
I need one that's hungry
Was down bad now we rich rich
Now we counting money
Pull up with that hit stick
Looking like who want it
He mad that he can't flex like this
Nigga you so funny
Ice cream colored paint up on the whip cause it's a foreign
And I got some questions why yo clique don't know yo story
Big racks in these Balmain Jeans paper blue like Dory
In the whip I'm switchin lanes, I ain't talkin Tory, Uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Skye Parham
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Yictitan

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