[verse one]
(YOU su*k)- It's no wonder why I declined your feature
Finna beat rappers up and stuff their bodies behind the bleachers
No f**s given, I'm dippin this sh** is finders keepers
Never catch me slippin I'm spittin casual violence meaner, try to be first and I'll prolly spit you out, chewed to pieces, coolest sequence
Take your titties out I'm in the mood to see em
Goons in Egypt, kickin back, spitting crack with the moon and Venus
Who's the meanest, quickest slap to b**h in back, no spoon to feed it
Bloodshed, food for leaches
Leaving n***as booster seated
Auto pilot through the day and spend it all just booty peepin
Rudely preachin, mad, I shouldn't have to give you fools a reason
Depressed and f**ing stressed don't wonder why He's coming through and chiefin
(Small pause) and even at f**ing school he preached it
Show me a new rapper and imma just be like "oooh he's decent"
It is what it is cause honest never got to choose my demons
b**h left me with no money, a broken heart & droopy penis
(BKC HOOK)
VERSE TWO:
Pardon the dyslexic acts
Often where the ruckus at
Tearing n***as clean-a-f**ing-part with just a hunting axe
After parties catch a n***a barfin in a pumpkin patch
Started sparkin now it's like I'm hardly doing jumping jacks
What is that, is that n***a sparring with a lumberjack?
Hunnid stacks, won they bet against him but he won his match
Duck n jab, hit him in his stomach n he's stumblin back
Runnin rap
Been training for too long there ain't no COMIN BACK
I'm beating f*gs n hoes upside their heads with a saxophone
Dismantle foes, reduced to ash when the frags are thrown
Caskets closed, f** getting mad at a ratchet ho it's a gasket blown if you're coming at me with crappy flows
Catacombs, you're finna be calling that a home
Captains throne, not needed he ain't an average joe
Hurt him badly though n then I left him on his patio
Barely catch me givin f**s I'm givin s*uts the bag n bone
VERSE THREE:
I pulled a heist with a poltergeist then ate a bowl of rice
I'm self promoting crimes such as choking wives and throwing knives at peeps who poorly chose to drive on roads at night
I'm leaving rappers pulverized with goals cold as polar ice
Left in caskets full of spikes, mold and mice with nothing but their mothers corpse to hold them tight
When I hold the mic I spit equivalent gold and fright - victory I hope it's mine
Leave ya with a broken spine
f** it, let's go smoke inside
Oops.. My flow snapped beat
You can go after me when I'm done with this rapping spree, bona-petite
Homie f** yo masterpiece
Trashy schemes, kinda make a n***a wonder what it is you craftin, G
Hasn't he
- Committed ma**acres with ma**ive words while slashing herds dispatched to curbs then snatch a purse
Laugh absurd as you crash n burn..
Young Sage wit a sack of purp
If they childish smack em on the back until they have to burp