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kappalot - stomp em out lyrics

chuck, man, you brokeer than a b+tch—man, go get some racks
like it’s mortal kombat, punch you up just like that n+gga jax
like my last fight, combat—might just stomp you out just like i’m deck
n+ggas dissing on the net, them n+ggas ass, some n+ggas whack

catch that n+gga out up in the street, i put him in a pack
wesley is a b+tch, that n+gga ugly, and that n+gga fat
3% in english—how the f+ck this n+gga even passed?
n+ggas say he a “crash,” everybody in the room just laughs

n+gga dumber than a b+tch ’cause this n+gga skipping class
this n+gga can’t rap—this n+gga sh+tty, and his n+gga ass
b+tch, i’m swerving left and right, i think i’m ’bout to f+cking crash
pop a perk up on the beat, i think i’m ’bout to do it fast

shot that n+gga in the head, we left him leaking on the dash
all these n+ggas, i’m gon’ dunk up on them n+ggas like i’m nash
i can’t f+ck that lil’ ho no more ’cause that b+tch don’t bring me cash
my b+tch got no tittiеs, but she thick as f+ck—a h+ll of ass

got her b+tch all up in my phonе, she talk about smash or pass
i might f+ck yo’ b+tch like once or twice, and then i do the dash
bet the five i put your ass in a full chain
b+tch keep calling my phone, she saying mitch jackson gone through her brain

n+gga broke as f+ck, these n+ggas asking for some change
n+ggas spin some hoes, you know these n+ggas stay the same
dissing sfg, i’m never switching on the gang
catch that n+gga lacking, i’m gon’ shoot him in his brain
p+ssy n+gga try to test me—n+gga, don’t address me
p+ssy n+gga name is wesley—n+gga, come correctly
gucci shoes on my feet, now a n+gga watch his step+y
yeah, i’m screaming, “f+ck 12,” them b+tch+ass n+ggas wanna arrest me

pop a perk and now i’m in that mode, won’t let no b+tches stress me
got two b+tches on my phone, they talk about they wanna bless me
go and stomp him up, punch him in his mouth
n+gga dissing on the net, we took his life for chasing clout

me and my n+gga, nasty+doddy, run up on him, chase him down
can’t wait till these n+ggas die so i can see their mama frown
da+do+da+d+da+d+d+d, n+gga know you is a b+tch
so why the f+ck you get a gun?

n+ggas always talking sh+t, them n+ggas b+tches run
keep a smith like i’m f+cking jaden. fat blunt, i’mma blaze it
got my jimmy out, she tryna taste it. told that b+tch to save it
bad b+tch said i’m all up in her playlist—knew i’d make it

shot him twice, he got the harlem shaking
draco get to baking, fire inside come like it’s f+cking bacon
young og in the making. she the dada, oh, that b+tch jamaican

- kappalot lyrics

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