Song: Jim Carrey’N
Artist:  Weasel Sims
Year: 2021
Viewed: 79 - Published at: 4 years ago

[Verse 1: Weasel Sims]
It ain't like no one set way to do it
Uh, uhh, uhh
You think I should’ve just came on rapping
Nah fuck it I'll start rapping now, I got it
(What was your first mind)
Aye look
Check it out
My city get hotter every summer
Last year I made it to winter
Jim carrey'n big thumper
Fuck the gym
I gotta jumper
Lamped outside his bushes
Popped out
Shooting like the Rucker
Face mask in black denim
In living color
Oops, act stupid
I’m that ruthless
The mac matte black
Only make me act
Dumb and dumber
Stupid
Never told on soul
Snatched his soul wit the pole
So my victim can't tell a soul
Shhh
Hood on fire
You ain't dripping
You just lying
Scarey cats
You ain't lion
You a tyrant
Wet em like the hydrant
Ambulance, sirens
Grandma, the babies
And the clucker aunties crying
Stop drop and roll
Bullets ain't cold
I'm Fire Marshall Bill
Sunning youngins like Theo
Tattooed tears of joy from balling no chemo
Windchill, Comme des Garçon
That's cold baby
[Chorus]
Second to none
Second to none
Second to none
Second to none
Second to none
Second to none

[Verse 2: Weasel Sims]
Who fucking wit me though
See you niggas
You niggas too focused on like being like
You know, ya big homie, ya know
And yo big homie too focused on
Tryna still be like the nigga
That might take his spot, ya know
You know imma pass the rock
Come on let's go back in
I got real bodies and I’m don’t feel sorry
It was him or me
Apologies to God
Life and death
Are In the power of the tongue
The streets talk
But won't apologize to my og
If I was gone
I know it seem wrong
But if it did happen
(Second to none, second to none, second to none)
I’m going out big clapping
Like a standing ovation
Pa pa pa pa pat
Take a bow, exit stage left
I need twenty-five a show
But I'll take a bowl for compensation
Seems hard
Tryna beat the odds
Even some of my worse sins
Birthed my best blessings
Kept working towards progression
Better than none
My squad second to none
Hill figures
And concealing the tommy
On my job
Pimping like Rudy
From real thotties
Yo bitch bussing like a pill party
Not pill Cosby
Pussy pudding hardly
Never trust a hoe unless she
And you can't mufuckin copy this shit
Cause I don't even know how I did it
You know what I’m sayin
Like I nigga I gotta listen to it a bunch of times
To know what's going on

( Weasel Sims )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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