Bizzy Banks – 2016 Lyrics

2016 Lyrics by Bizzy Banks

[Intro] Grrah-grrah
([?] made this)
Get Money
(What’s good, Nonzo?)
Nonzo, know who be fvckin’ the beats up
I feel like the old Bizzy (Bizzy)
All I’m missin’ is the Don C
But they know what’s up (That Structure)
Uh, look

[Chorus] He talkin’ hot, up that
Brodie gon’ clutch that (Grrah)
He on shooter (Uh)
Tell him, “Pa$$ it and dump that” (Grrah-grrah)
Like, yeah
I feel like Bizzy in 2016
He talkin’ hot, then he get a sixteen
They know my body, it’s right in my jeans, like (Baow-baow)
Uh, I don’t wish jail, only death in this beef
Hollows in the Glock put a niqqa to sleep
niqqas hit bro and we spinned the whole week

 

[Verse] They switchin’ up cribs, they switchin’ up Vs
Them niqqas duckin’, they don’t wanna tweak (At all)
Them niqqas duckin’, they don’t wanna beef
I do not talk, I don’t post on the G, like (Like)
Yeah, I used to rob and shoot out the van, damn
He make a move, then it’s, “Bam-bam”
We spin a Benz in this [?] (Grrah), uh
I do not freeze, it jam, damn
You not my mans, you my mans mans
Thought it was a opp, [?] a damn fan, like
What you gon’ do when you see you a demon?
niqqas saw me, started bluffin’ and freezin’
Got in that car and that boy started schemin’, like, tss-he
These niqqas pu$$y, I know they ain’t tough
[?] like me touch
‘Cause I’m really real, I don’t talk too much, like
Uh, I tell ’em, “I’m really slime for real” (I’m really slime for real)
You whine to your mom for real
You callin’ your B!tch but she mine for real (Stupid), like

Don’t get out the line for real (Why?)
‘Cause I do the drill and the time for real (Grrah-grrah-grrah)
Like, uh, ’cause I’m still in the trenches, B!tch
Hop out the car, start switchin’ sh!t
Beam on the pole, he ain’t missin’ sh!t
Free [?], free Chop’
They know my body, gotta keep a Glock, like
Free Luv’, free [?] Yeah, you know [?] still up on the Rock, like
And if he ain’t move wock
I’ma tell AK, “Get him out the spot”, like
On bro, though
Free [?], free [?], free [?], uh
Free [?] Got a Glock with a d!ck, no homo, uh
[?] Tryna be down, send him up like a yo-yo

[Chorus] Yeah, I feel like Bizzy in 2016
He talkin’ hot, then he get a sixteen
They know my body, it’s right in my jeans, like (Grrah-grrah, boom)
Uh, I don’t wish jail, only death in this beef
Hollows in the Glock put a niqqa to sleep
niqqas hit bro and we spinned the whole week (Like)