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lyrics
Ever since I got a few chips
They tryna say that Tay switched
I aint switch, I evolved
You actin like a lil bitch
Damn it’s a trip (Delta)
Close homies be the ones that’ll talk the most (plop)
But aint called in a grip (Hella)
Tryna read my mind, homie read my lips
Real spit
Even when I was broke I was rich
Why don’t you find your niche
‘Steada worryin bout me and how I feed my kids
Say I sound like Ish (I wish)
From the Town, talk slick like Rick (lodi dodi)
Tryna pound my fist, that’s rich
You a underground clown like It (hi, Georgie)
Your whole style boring
Bein swang is a thing, in your dreams
Yall muhfuckas corny
This is a warning
Day ones be the ones that be tryna have your things
Ride witchu on the sure things
When you need em most, muhfuckas ghost, hear the door swing
True story
Can’t none of y’all do nothin for me
Tryna sip my forty
But when my solo shit dropped, not one of y’all support me
Tryna say you a Moor, whore please
I’m a boss, y’all lost like Dory
Tryna fuck my shorty? That’s poetry
Are y’all done gettin sonned like Maury?
Call 'im Ish, 👑 of tripped-out hip-hop. With Erik 🅱️lood, they harness the idea of the 3-minute song as soundscape, and it's just stoned cold bliss. Grant