| Right, right, right, right, right
|
| CXRPSE
|
| These niggas motherfucking stupid, talking shit about me
|
| Sounding like a little prick
|
| Twist mob, half-dead, nigga
|
| You’ll be in a box near death, jump in
|
| Want their necks, cookie-cutter, fuck lookin' at 'em
|
| Why am I doing this shit? |
| Ayy
|
| Fuck do I do in this bitch? |
| Ayy
|
| Why am I losing my shit? |
| Ayy
|
| I guess I’m used to the name, ayy
|
| I guess I’m living and gaining
|
| I guess their memory erasin'
|
| We don’t even like none of they shit
|
| I guess I’m used to the name, ayy
|
| I guess I’m living and gaining
|
| I guess their memory erasin'
|
| We don’t even like none of they shit, lame shit
|
| Lil' trash can, lil' trash can, lil' trash can
|
| I’m tired of making routes
|
| Lil' trash can, you a trash can, piss in a trash can, I piss in a trash can
|
| You trash can, I piss in a trash can, you a trash can, you a trash can
|
| Little fuckhead, little dickwad, little bitchy-made, yah |