HIM - Thouxanbanfauni, Runway Richy

See that look in his eyes man

Haha

Runway, thouxan, Figueroa, bands, Chris Clizzy

For sure, respect, peace, tech

Hoe I’m him, don’t ever gotta worry 'bout them

Hoe I’m him, don’t ever be worried 'bout, uh

Hoe I’m him, don’t ever be worried 'bout him

Broke peon, that shit underneath my Tim’s (underneath my feet)

'Dis why I’m hot, real hot boy like I’m him

Thot’s in my spot, my momma think I’m pimpin'

Trappin' out my spot, neighbours keep on trippin'

Parked the car up in the kitchen how I’m whippin' (yeah)

Plugged in the socket ain’t sinked a dollar but they still ship

Walked in the spot with 50 bands they think it’s Christmas

Living lavish, niggas don’t even blemish

Talking 'bout static, hell nah can’t dismiss it

Shit look tragic, your partner how we hit him

Shit these niggas doing for clout got wack tryna fit in

It’s Runway Richy, choppa hold .250s

With me for the glizzy on your neck look like a hickey

I got folders that got twin’s they got extra clothes be with me

I got Muslim bloods and GDG them crews be fucking with me

Had to tax him, finessed him out his benji’s

Real outlaw lil baby you know I cause infringement

Bit of endightment for that shit can’t be pretending

Y’all best friend a rat, he pointed his finger towards the bitches

Ay these niggas rat’s, mouse’s blood on niggas trippin'

Ain’t tryna do no business with ya nigga keep your distance

These niggas killing 'bout these bitches swear they keep it pimpin'

I’m out in Cali', Bali, nigga, smoking Scotty Pippen

Shoutout Chris Clizzy, your nigga pulling up stay busy

We in Atlanta spread my wings the hawk 'coz the falcons with me

Had to dish that hoe because she sloppy and she way too tipsy

She know I’m him, Kurt Jackson we ain’t shooting 50's

She know I’m him, I’m bright as hell I’m never dim

She know we him, outside like we run the city

She know I’m him, I’m simple but can’t be no simp

They knew we them, these .223's gon' leave them limp

Hoe I’m him, don’t ever gotta worry 'bout them

Hoe I’m him, don’t ever be worried 'bout, uh

Hoe I’m him, don’t ever be worried 'bout him

Broke peon, that shit underneath my Tim’s (underneath my feet)

'Dis why I’m hot, real hot boy like I’m him

Thot’s in my spot, my momma think I’m pimpin'

Trappin' out my spot, neighbours keep on trippin'

Parked the car up in the kitchen how I’m whippin' (yeah)

Plugged in the socket ain’t sinked a dollar but they still ship

Walked in the spot with 50 bands they think it’s Christmas