Lyrics

Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby – Steppers Lyrics

Updated

November 19, 2024

Mpo SA

Steppers Lyrics by Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby

[Intro: Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby]
You be talkin’ ’bout me to the niggas run with you
Then see me out dick suck and now them boys uncomfortable
Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch
Every nigga I don’t like gettin’ stripped in this bitch
Ha
Ayy (Helluva made this beat, baby)
Hm

[Chorus: Skilla Baby]
Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch
I hope a bitch nigga get pistol whipped to this shit
Every nigga I don’t like gettin’ stripped in this bitch
Any sudden move, boy, you gettin’ hit with this blick, bitch
Every nigga in here jack shit and take hits
My lil’ nigga whack shit, he don’t wanna take pics
If you wanna beat that body, then you better hirе Blake [?]
My lil’ niggas bake shit, you bettеr send that pape’, bitch
[Verse 1: Skilla Baby]
Every nigga in here with me click and catch bodies
If I tell ’em I don’t like you, then you gettin’ stretched probably
Simple math, subtract niggas, it ain’t shit to solve a problem
And if you hidin’ and I want you, I’m puttin’ this shit on your mama
And if you wanna be around the gang, catch a body, nigga
Hop up in that striker with me, we them young niggas ’round the city
Catch him out and hit him, kill everything with him
Are they pissed? Have my lil’ nigga sic ’em
No kizzy, every time I go slide, my lil’ niggas go with me
We be huntin’ shit, hop out, bustin’ shit around the city
I get busy, I can’t let a nigga trick me, this shit tricky
I don’t want no borin’ gun, I want a fully or a switchy, bitch, I’m picky

[Chorus: Skilla Baby & Tee Grizzley]
Now all the real steppers up your blick in this bitch
I hope a bitch nigga get pistol whipped to this shit
Every nigga I don’t like gettin’ stripped in this bitch
Any sudden move, boy, you gettin’ hit with this blick, bitch
Every nigga in here jack shit and take hits
My lil’ nigga whack shit, he don’t wanna take pics
If you wanna beat that body, then you better hire Blake [?]
My lil’ niggas bake shit, you better send that pape’, bitch (Oh yeah)

[Verse 2: Tee Grizzley & Skilla Baby]
Ayy, Glocks in the air, Glocks in the air (Glock nines, forties, four-fives, put them bitches in the air)
Shots at his hair, we don’t send shots in the air (Bah, bah)
Chops in the air, chops in the air (AKs, Dracs, nigga, ARPs, nigga, what up, nigga?)
Try to box in this bitch and get you boxed like some squares (Bah)
Got money, but they bitches catch ’em slippin’, take that Rollie off (Give me that)
He been talkin’ crazy, but he hidin’ what his homie cost (Okay)
Bitch, we from the D, we don’t say, “Taco,” duck your Coney Dog (Bah)
Thought he was a demon, Skilla nailed him to the holy cross (Pussy ass)
My niggas be on street shit (Yeah), headshot, sleep quick (Yeah)
Cook up all the beef shit (Yeah), crime in the D shit (Oh yeah)
These niggas really dumb enough to against some millionaires (Okay)
I’m talkin’, they catch you in Somerset and they gon’ kill you there (Brr, ha, ha)