Still on Timing Lyrics – Pooh Shiesty

[Intro: Pooh Shiesty]
N!gga, see
This why I poured up here really standing up
This that, this that s*it right here
They tell you to stand up rapping this s*it right here
Ayy, blrrrd
Back on that time, n!gga, pay attention, n!gga
Yeah, man
Coming to a city near you with this s*it, man
Where you at? Pop out, n!gga
(Once again, I’m locked in with TP, we finna make a hit)
Blrrrd, blrrrd

[Chorus: Pooh Shiesty]
Ayy, ayy, I’m back on that timing
My third weekend out the feds, I bet s*it get to dying
I’m South Memphis menace, I make the murder rate rise
Binary triggers, AR pistol, this b!tch double-firing
Why I keep double-fi—
I lost my mind, I’m to the face tryna shoot out the road
I get mad all over again seeing my bullet holes
I took two different— same clothes, same pole
I took two different souls, same clothes, same pole

[Verse 1: Pooh Shiesty]
I just burnt up my Infiniti, jumped in my Bentley
Me and Hank alone up in the car, that’s double digits
You tryna live what you rapping, I’m rapping how I’m living
I’m just reciting what the feds told the judge up in my sentencing
Time to mash your gas
You ain’t shot no n!gga in three years, burn up your shiesty mask
Ain’t got no hustle, all my n!ggas tryna smash for cash
Twenty extended mags
Limo tint on CPN, strikers get a tag

[Chorus: Pooh Shiesty]
Ayy, I’m still on that timing

My first weekend out the feds, I bet s*it get to dying
I’m South Memphis menace, I make the murder rate rise
Binary triggers, AR pistol, this b!tch double-firing
Why I keep double-firing?
Ayy, I lost my mind, I’m to the face tryna shoot out the road
I get mad all over again seeing my bullet holes
I took two different souls, same clothes, same pole
I took two different souls, same clothes, same pole, on gang

[Interlude: Pooh Shiesty & BIG30]
On gang ‘nem, n!gga, blrrrd
On gang and them, blrrrd, blrrrd
Ayy, ayy, Big Blrrrd

[Verse 2: BIG30]
Ayy, I’m back on the road
We caught him in his favorite outfit and folded his clothes
Don’t ask me how much on my neck, it worth three hundred ‘bows
A lot of n!ggas ain’t even slime, but they still wipe they nose
And get treated like hoes, ayy
My chain white and rose, but this Patek all gold, ayy
Put some miles on that Hellcat, no Sprinters at the shows, ayy
Project baby, threw a hundred up at Classic Soulz
Done sobered up, still crack a four, but I ain’t gon’ pour no more
Ain’t no more pouring no Tris, that’s a hundred million, that wrist
Salt-dropping on Thirtball, coincidentally fu*ked his b!tch
And we 3-7, don’t compare Choppa Gang to 3-6
Send s*it to Heaven, fully Blackout left him in a ditch
And fu*k your gang, don’t throw that s*it up ‘less you drop your wrist
We block s*it off when we in traffic, Draco stomping s*it
Got some head from a chocolate b!tch, turnt her up on some chocolate s*it
Want smoke, we got a lot of it and more shots than a doctor, b!tch

[Chorus: Pooh Shiesty]
Ayy, ayy, I’m back on that timing
My third weekend out the feds, I bet s*it get to dying
I’m South Memphis menace, I make the murder rate rise
Binary triggers, AR pistol, this b!tch double-firing
Why I keep double-fi—
I lost my mind, I’m to the face tryna shoot out the road
I get mad all over again seeing my bullet holes
I took two different— same clothes, same pole
I took two different souls, same clothes, same pole