Still Gittin Lyrics & Chords By Skeme

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 motherfuckin' 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 motherfuckin' 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, fuck y'all niggas Fuck 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 Fuck 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 fucked 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 hits 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 suits 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