Dev
HIM (HER REMIX)
[Intro: NyNy]
Ayy, this might really be— yeah
It's YBM on the thang, though
Ayy, this might really be him, yeah, yeah
You know, NyNy

[Verse 1: NyNy]
I might really be her, I could be a drug to a n***a like a Perc'
He said he want a taste, gotta make sure he can surf
I got a new n***a bangin' blue like a smurf
Met you from the Bay, we was raised a little different
Get money and trick n***as part of our religion
He beggin' me to eat it, that's the n***a that you kissin'
Gotta pass the torch to Ny, your time is tickin'
I gotta stop actin' like I don't rap, for real
Too humble, I been coulda signed a deal
I like the trap n***as but I like some rappers, still
I got a bag in real life, I don't feel how you feel
And I'm up next, headed to the top
Gotta blow a bag, invest it in me like a stock
Please don't offend me, I'm too raw to have a opp
Book me for a show, save up, I'm a lot

[Chorus: Myles Parrish]
Ayy, this might really be him
Look how they move when the beat kicked in
Like, ayy, this might really be some'
It ain't gon' work if they don't shake none
Like, ayy, this might really be him
(What? What?) That's him, go
Ayy, this might really be him
(What? What?) That's him, go
[Verse 2: Myles Parrish]
I just put my foot up on the gas, I don't know when I'ma take it off
She was like, "Damn Myles, don't you take a break at all?"
Now she tryna throw it back at me, tryna break me off
She like how I put in work, now she wanna take it off
Ayy, what's happenin'?
Ten plus years, still gettin' it crackin'
I used to sleep in, now I'm up and at 'em
I'm in a Lexus tryna break the traction, yeah
My LS400 like YG
My collar gettin' popped on his white tee
We know that yo' ex not like me
She say that the cake need icing
Yeah, happy birthday
Met her at the lock and key on a Thursday
She said that she wanna take it back to her place
Hopped in the sleeve, knew it was a sure thing
I said, ayy

[Verse 3: DEV]
Ooh, this might really be me
And, bitch, I might be your number one tonight
If your stars align, fuck your birthday
Give me that dollar sign on the dotted line
Sí Papi, no soy polite
Super sick wit' it, mean wit' it, overdrive
That kind of attitude that's always overpriced
That kinda denim fit that's sittin' lower rise, like
I see you wanna cop three, big wheels spinning
Then I ride it top, like, "Wee"
Super-duper hyphy, so don't even try me
[Chorus: Myles Parrish]
Ayy, this might really be him
Look how they move when the beat kicked in
Like, ayy, this might really be some'
It ain't gon' work if they don't shake none
Like, ayy, this might really be him
(What? What?) That's him, go
Ayy, this might really be him
(What? What?) That's him, go