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frank winnfield – rude boy lyrics


[intro 1: ghost boy sora]
look at this b-tch-ss frank, yo
yo, he was supposed to put out an album last f-cking summer
this two left shoe wearing wearing -ss b-tch
what the f-ck, always hyping people up for sh-t
man, you, where- where the f-ck is your sh-t, bro?
like where is it?
g-y as f-ck, bro
you ain’t got sh-t on you
under your belt, where the f-ck it out, bro?
f-ck you, mane

[intro 2: frank winnfield]
yo, these drums are kinda sick
it only sucks that, like, 20 f-cking million people used them before me
alright, who cares?
here’s a song about being a b-tch (uh, alright)

[verse 1: frank winnfield]
cause imma ghost you, no casper
bust your whole clique backwards
i got this rap sh-t mastered
and all you rappers is average (and all you rappers is average)
i ride around in a bimmer
i rent that sh-t with my visa
i got more drip than a swimmer
yes b-tch i know i’m a winner
cause i don’t spit, i shoot
when i pull up to the booth
i still got my wisdom tooth
have to go get that removed
you say that i’m wack it’s cool
but i seen u groovin’ to
all my beats, you’re fluent in
talking all of that bullsh-t (b-tch)

[outro: frank winnfield]
its that gated neighbourhood drip (brr)
we don’t listen to our parents (we don’t)
we do our homework (only sometimes)
alright, now, bring the drums in
yeah, i think thats the whole song to be honest