(Getta Beats) She a shakey butt on finsta but an angel on her main page (Rap bitch) You better put a plus in front that, everything I´m doin´ A-grade
Why you screamin´, "Free him"? You ain´t even load his J-Pack Can you please change your outfit for today´s sake? Bae playin´ middle, bust down, face plain Jane Double R came with an umbrella, this the rain Wraith Bottle return bandit, dog tryna scrape chain Dog$hitMilitia, whole gang, we some Great Danes My lil´ yeah from Wayne State, yeah, her brain great How the fuck I´m tryna chase dreams? Tryna stay awake She gon´ throw a fit if I don´t fuck her in the dressing room Ain´t no winning every series, I might take a L or two Caught him in the club, we had some better bottles, better boot
All I know is tell the truth, I hit ahk to sell my fruit And for my kid on the way, I do this shit for you Your mom´ll lace shit, I sure know how to pick and choose All he do is play the middle, I´ma call him interlude Glock fanatic, got more 30s than a script of blues I´ma kiss the pint, have ´em thinkin´, "Go and get a room" Mario, Luigi, me and Lil´ Cudi split a shroom Feelings bottled up and I´d be damned if I spilled my juice Dude wasn´t even usin´, heard he got killed by fumes He gon´ see me turn twenty-five, gon´ get killed by June
Drop a diss, 1:59, gon´ get killed by 2 DSM militant, be damned I let him kill my troop The habits that you got, you gon´ get killed by you That´s the good voice in my head The bad one´s feelin´ dead, all I see is red Rather knock him out than stomp him out, bitch, I´m a sneakerhead My ho the rudest out the group, it ain´t no meaner friend Just pointless, everything my teacher said How you on some fine shit? Can´t even keep her fed, yeah I know $cam lookin´ down with a big smile This for you, Puritan up to 6 Mile Experimentin´ in the lab, this a Tris vibe Seven figures worth of MP3s, these some rich files
Tell a bitch to kick rocks while she got on Crocs And I hope her bum ass forget to put on socks Okay, I know you see I´m Shai with the pull-up shots Thinkinʼ we gonʼ pull up, box, we gonʼ pull up, pop Boy, what´s in your pockets? That ain´t even what I put in pop Lil Fuzz in culinary school but still´ll a cook a opp Why the fuck did they ever think the juggin´ stopped? I´Il scam your lil´ brother, I´ll jug yo´ pops I´Il jug yo´ best friend, I´ll jug yo´ opps We gon´ just do it all June but it´s a Jugg July Hutch hit him with a snotball, Carti´s booger fire Feds caught him tryna punch, I guess he had a rookie right
I guess he lives the rookie life Bitch movin´ too loose, it ain´t no way that pussy tight Scope on the chop, can see from MGM to Motor City The Za man put up stank and keep some odors with him The way I got it out the mud, you´d think it´s ogres with me Why you braggin´ ´bout that lil´ pape? Ain´t you ´posed to get it? Whole time, realistically, that ain´t close to chicken Pourin´ all that yellow up, you gon´ turn to Homer Simpson All it take is one call and lil´ sis chokin´ bitches Been touched a million, like currently the goal´s a billion
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