Lyrics Hyperbole - Fijimacintosh

Hyperbole

Pull up in a coupe, why your tints so black?
I’ma hit your bitch like a baseball bat
I’ma hit the plug like a baseball bat
In too deep and I can’t come back
Made her throw up when she look at the tag
All blue hundreds in the Burberry bag
Chasin' the cheese like a muhfuckin' rat (Slime)
Pardon my steez, but you stealin' my swag
It’s in my jean, it go «ratatatat» (Slime)
I’m in the club but I’m way in the back
While you spendin' your money and throwin' the racks (Slime)
All the chains that chill on my neck
I think I’m havin' an asthma attack (Slime)
Oh, you used to fuck with me, I think that you need to relax
All my cups are bubbly, I fell asleep while countin' the racks
Oh, she so stuck to me, but we didn’t have nothin' but sex
All these rappers hyperboles, bitch, don’t compare me to that
Drippin' in some Vetement shit, I ain’t get this from my dad
Countin' big-ass hundreds and fifties, big-ass titties, litty bitty
Raf Simmons, feel like Nicki, pretty penny, pull up Remy
Crash so fast you hear the engi', oh my God, might pop a wheelie
All this ice, my neck so chilly, all my hoes, they love me dearly
I smoke the gas just to give me a break (Break)
Take me away, lil' bitch get out my face (Face)
If he talk down, we gon' come where he stay (Fuh-fuh-fuh)
Thirty round drum hit that boy in the face (Yeah)
I need my chips, no Chips Ahoy!
She ride the dick like all aboard
I used to ride in a Honda Accord
Now I’m a type and I’m hard to afford
Went and bought moms a Porsche
Ridin' the push-to-lift-the-door
It’s hard to get out the fucking coupe
It’s too close to the floor
Pull up in a coupe, why your tints so black?
I’ma hit your bitch like a baseball bat
I’ma hit the plug like a baseball bat
In too deep and I can’t come back
Made her throw up when she look at the tag
All blue hundreds in the Burberry bag
Chasin' the cheese like a muhfuckin' rat (Slime)
Pardon my steez, but you stealin' my swag
It’s in my jean, it go «ratatatat» (Slime)
I’m in the club but I’m way in the back
While you spendin' your money and throwin' the racks (Slime)
All the chains that chill on my neck
I think I’m havin' an asthma attack (Slime)
Oh, you used to fuck with me, I think that you need to relax
All my cups are bubbly, I fell asleep while countin' the racks
Oh, she so stuck to me, but we didn’t have nothin' but sex
All these rappers hyperboles, bitch, don’t compare me to that
Drippin' in some Vetement shit, I ain’t get this from my dad