Song: Scoreboard
Artist:  StanWill
Year: 2021
Viewed: 52 - Published at: 8 years ago

[Hook]
One, two, three, four giffies outta Speedway
Five, six, seven Scats racing up the freeway
Eight, nine bands off the scams, it was free pape
Ten fucking hoes on my dick, bitch, I need space
Yeah, boy, you better tuck yo bitch 'fore we three-way her
For that cheddar, throw more holes at him than a cheese grater
You'll never catch my hands out, I don't need favors
Only thing gang know is shoot, he gon' think later

[Verse]
Elevation come from separation, I ain't near these niggas
Painting pictures like I'm van Gogh, don't wanna hear these niggas
Thousand dollar [?] boy, what you know about Amiri denim?
In the hood, hold on, let me clеar my system
In the hood, we spark his ass up, hе think he plugged in
Only got the head up off yo bitch, I only fuck tens
Funny how if you don't reach no cover, you get tucked in
Looking through my database, I think I got enough BINs
When the critics label me the GOAT is when I give it up
Yo nigga window shopping at the set, bitch, he ain't spend a buck
SB, T-double H-L, you ain't kin to us
When I get rich, the next goal gon' be rich as fuck
Ha-ha, yeah, that's not far though
Fuck around and shoot him like I'm Logan, I'll spark bro
Future bright as hell but I always had a dark soul
They just getting hip, I always knew that I was part GOAT
I'm worried 'bout the scoreboard, you looking at the shot clock
All these .30 round ARs, this a chop shop
I could fuck the hoes but the pape always cock-block
Lil' bro'll lay down in yo bushes, don't get drop shot
Gang jumping out with [?] we let Glocks pop
Posted up on niggas' cross streets, we playing opp watch
If it's up, boy, this shit forever, we do not squash
Turbans on, Drac'd up, he better pray to Allah
Ain't no midget 'round when I say the .45 by me
Road tripping, hitting every store, fucking slide out it
Stepping in this bitch, might fuck around and break the tile out it
Enterprise rental, know I'm getting every mile out it
Ex bitch fucked up thinking that I need hoes
Water, air, and pape, bitch, I really only need those
Whole gang touching dog shit, bitch, we team goals
Fucking off the [?] boy, you cuffing fiend hoes
Looking like a blessing, when she see me, she gon' make a wish
Balling out the gym for every time I couldn't make a swish
Setting plays up for that roll, bro gon' make the pick
Dog hoes, I'll chase my tail 'fore I chase a bitch
[Hook]
One, two, three, four giffies outta Speedway
Five, six, seven Scats racing up the freeway
Eight, nine bands off the scams, it was free pape
Ten fucking hoes on my dick, bitch, I need space
Yeah, boy, you better tuck yo bitch 'fore we three-way her
For that cheddar, throw more holes at him than a cheese grater
You'll never catch my hands out, I don't need favors
Only thing gang know is shoot, he gon' think later

( StanWill )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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