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flaming turd - not one (flaming turd 4) lyrics

[verse 1: dj salad]
chilling with my boys g-sp0t and d0uble-d
gotta cameo from my girl bailey
b-tch, i’m decked out in glitter
i’m a fire spitter
eat her out for dinner
boss her ’round like princ-p-l skinner
b-tch
there’s a fire brewing in the corner of my room
it’s my beats
and they gone put you in a f-cking tomb
b-tch you running, chasing your tail
come from behind, and make you wail
suck my d-ck ratigan
it’s your cl-ss that i failed, b-tch!
ain’t very good at telling the time
but i can tell you
that you can’t keep up with this rhyme
and it’s 69. as you whine
i come from behind
i make you mine
is that fine?
doesn’t matter you’re ms. sahr
and no one’s fatter

[chorus]
this rap doesn’t have a name
no one had one
so who’s to blame?
no one, no one, no one
yeah, these raps are going up in flames
but it’s true we really, really didn’t have a name
not one, not one, not one, not one

[verse 2: g-sp0t]
high on green, she suck my peen
call that shit
head of broccoli
drive by acura
migos add it up
razor slicing asher
asked her on her knees
to f-cking choo choo train this d
a b-tch bend over as i stick it in her f-cking v
hopefully
car keys are like virginity
never rat like remi
i’m in the kitchen whipping
not puling hair like disney
im jumping in like demi
game’s like pussy cause it’s always so tight
my rhymes like angles cause they’re always alright
mind finna’ fly when my drugs take flight
i’ll blow up the whole world
k!ll you out of spite
dub-dub-dub-dub-d0uble-d up
and he’s ready for a fight b-tch…

[verse 3: d0uble-d]
i got more game
i hustle hard, face it
mother f-cker looking like his -ss need a facelift
got your b-tch doing lines in the bando
got her right in the palm of my hand though
soon she’ll be mine
quit wasting your time
come around and twist that handle
so welcome back to the money having
b-tches gagging
tires screeching
lesson teaching
mother f-cking
wire tucking
neighborhood we live in
21 speed pimping
cruising down coleman sipping
hear a scream as i take the wheel
we out here and this shit is real
click clack, c-ck it back
rip the spine right out your back
slice your arteries for heart attack
and you know we ain’t coming back
uh, got it popping on snapchat
here comes the chorus
blow you back like a gat, b-tch!

chorus

[verse 4: bombaely]
(yeah, b. coming at you.)
these boys be chasing after me
ask me to get their groceries
calling me their baby
just so i will kiss their tiny peen
they bow me to me in high school
i’m the queen of this b-tch
motherf-ckers don’t forget
i’m the queen of this b-tch
i got all a’s in chemistry
i got all -ss in his bed sheets
i’m whipping out these rhymes
faster than that d-ck is out of his black jeans
don’t waste my time with losers, -ssholes, dumb-shits, wannabe’s
no, i waste my time with boys who are gonna buy me fly nike’s
i try my best to be
on top of the rest
when i take that ap test
i k!ll it with sweetness
don’t listen to that shit you hear at parties or at school
i own this motherf-cker
i’m hotter than king krule
and i got b-tches at my side and them boys who worship me
that’s why you hear them whisper, “god d-mn its bombaely”

chorus

- flaming turd lyrics

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