| Okay
|
| Better luck, fuck, my fists robust
|
| Your bitch wanna fuck, she said you cuck
|
| I cuff her wrist, might catch that buck
|
| She suck this pipe and rust till dusk
|
| Your daughter slaughtered, pass her ass for lunch
|
| I just pulled her panties out the trunk
|
| Any nigga beefing get a punch
|
| Cire used dark move crunch
|
| Hopping out the motherfucking Beamer with a beam
|
| I don’t know the bitch but I make cream
|
| She don’t like a nigga till I’m feeding her a bean
|
| She digest a mess to my scream
|
| Everybody flocking, ain’t nobody ever talking
|
| When a nigga start a ruckus, everybody get stuck
|
| They ain’t never love me till I’m talkin bout a pill
|
| And now I gotta hide these lyrics so I’ll just say fuck
|
| Their souls fall down pits
|
| Eyes on predictable bitch
|
| She done touched my spit
|
| Ice, ice, ice, my wrist
|
| Got a problem? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t speak, bitch? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t feel shit? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Y’all so robotic, I hate y’all
|
| Got a problem? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t speak, bitch? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t feel shit? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Y’all so robotic, I hate y’all
|
| Got a problem? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t speak, bitch? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t feel shit? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Y’all so robotic, I hate y’all
|
| Got a problem? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t speak, bitch? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Can’t feel shit? |
| Let a xan talk
|
| Y’all so robotic, I hate y’all
|
| Fucker, fucker
|
| Fucker, fucker
|
| Your daughter slaughtered, pass her ass for lunch
|
| I just pulled her panties out the trunk
|
| Any nigga beefing get a punch
|
| Cire used dark move crunch
|
| Hopping out the motherfucking Beamer with a beam
|
| I don’t know the bitch but I make cream
|
| She don’t like a nigga till I’m feeding her a bean
|
| She digest a mess to my scream
|
| Everybody flocking, ain’t nobody ever talking
|
| When a nigga start a ruckus, everybody get stuck
|
| They ain’t never love me till I’m talkin bout a pill
|
| And now I gotta hide these lyrics so I’ll just say fuck
|
| Their souls fall down pits
|
| Eyes on predictable bitch
|
| She done touched my spit
|
| Ice, ice, ice, my wrist |