Scuba Dance lyrics

[Intro: 3zzy]
Yeah (2Raw)
Ayy
They like, "3zzy got that"— yeah
He got super bands
Ayy, ayy

[Verse 1: 3zzy]
They like, "3zzy got that dog sh*t on him, he got super bands"
Hold on, let me put the Drac' down, do my Skuba dance
Don't let lil' bro get off a Perky, he turn to Superman
I ain't from the D, but f*ck it, Siri, locate Coochie Land
Them n*ggas said they known for shootin', but then his shooter ran
Like FN had that ollie in him, cuh got stupid hands
If you known for suckin' and f*ckin', I'll be your only fan
Get rich off OnlyFans, hit the road, and I know some scams
Stock it up and go and hit Neimans, we could blow a ten
n*ggas talkin' pape', but they cappin', n*gga, show it then
Like five hundred, ten or four, I bеt bro roll a ten
Only bosses 'round my round table, so you won't fit in
I'll probably throw that sh*t on my wrist bеfore I cop a Benz
You b*tch n*ggas steady coppin' pleas, come cop a stick
By Sunday, we can bet the Steelers win or that I knock your b*tch
And I don't rock designer jeans, baby, 'cause my Glock don't fit
Big dog, I know I'm gon' win, c*cky and confident
I'm startin' to think this money grow on trees the way we got this sh*t
In traffic to the neck with the Glock, f*ck your politics
In your hood drivin' through slow and n*ggas not on sh*t
I don't want your ho, been had the b*tch
Bougie b*tch say she hate me, but she love the di*k
From the socks to the hat, did you peep the 'fit?
Fat 36 with the stock, I don't need the stick
f*ck him right where he stand, Drakey leave the b*tch
Before I ever tell on my mans, cuh, I plead the Fifth
Walk-downs in broad day, here, eat the clip
n*gga, eat the clip, here, go'n, eat the clip
[Verse 2: Rio Da Yung OG]
I ain't buyin' at all, but I got dog, and I keep a stick
But listen here, if the feds come, baby, we legit
Lou' just poured another pint out, damn, I need to quit
Matter fact, no, I don't, I'm trippin', bro, I need to sip
Real n*gga, wanna see us all win, got twenty-three assists
The Yung OG don't fear no man, I met the reaper, b*tch
I might pull up in a Grand Am tryna sweep some sh*t
Dope man, hundred grams of raw, but fifty-three was hit
So that's forty-seven G's of cut
In LA tryna find a stick, I hit 3zzy up
He pulled up tryna drop sh*t, I don't need to bust
Guarantee I take a n*gga head off when that evil bust
Jump on a plane with twenty 'bows of weed, tryna test my luck
Don't go waste your money tryna buy a vest, I'm shootin' neck and up
Fat b*tch sent me a picture in her panties, tryna set me up
Ain't nobody tryna f*ck your fat ass with your naked butt
Dropped an AP off to Hutch, flower set it up
b*tch, I drink so much lean, I think I'm finna flower, send my cup
Hundred racks for a lean belly, we got expensive guts
Three hundred dollars for a lineup, I got a different cut
Alright, let me switch it up
When the pistol bust, n*ggas hit the ground, someone come pick 'em up
Dog pulled up in a Scat', it got riddled up
My n*gga photobombed, stood behind with twenties, f*cked my—
My n*gga photobombed, pulled out some twenties, f*cked my picture up
n*gga, I just popped lid, so we shot the hospital up
Glock 27 on my hip, yeah, the little one
This ain't the same roll from yesterday, this a different one