lxxiv - #drowninapuddle prod. breezeh lyrics
b+tch, i’m bout my green, like a vegan
i’m the mvp every season
your chick, she a hoe, swallow s+m+n
she could f+ck so much, cause she the cheapest
b+tch, i got a clip, like a blooper, ran a movie
and you know i get directin’ when i grip that f+cking toolie
i ain’t new to this sh+t, let me teach you all, my students
if i hear another x adlib i’m gonna lose it
giddy young style, you ain’t sh+t, why you flexin’
you can’t copy my flow, so you copy how i’m dressin’
your music is the worst tragedy since 9/11, everyone that’s died should be happy they in heaven
got a thirty round clip in my tactical vest
he was talkin’ out is throat, so we ripped out his neck
oh, you ain’t seen my tec, about time that you met
allstate bodying all these rappers for they loyalty check
yeah, f+ck you, and everyone that f+cks with you
press a tool to your head, you’re looking like a loose screw
chopper kinda sick, better hope it don’t cough on you
’bout to make headlines, once i press the issue
got the metal on my hip, they call me tony stark
and, when i up the f+cking heater, knock you out of the park
you a square in my circle, i can’t hang with no mark
i come creepin’ in the night, so be afraid of the dark
b+tch, i’m bout my green, like a vegan
i’m the mvp every season
your chick, she a hoe, swallow s+m+n
she could f+ck so much, cause she the cheapest
my homies in the field, they pop if you look wrong
put you six feet under, with the motherf+cking suit on
riding dirty, all black whip with the teflon
rolling down the windows, split a head just like a melon
hey, yeah, i been known as a felon
model b+tch, suckin’ d+ck, blonde hair like ellen
b+tch, i have anxiety, can you please stop asking questions
and, no, i don’t go south on a b+tch, like a texan
young lx, put a seven with the fours
say his name three times, now he’s outside your door
knock, knock, knock, now your body’s on the floor
paint the walls red, man, i love the new decor
i do not gang bang
but i will bang bang
but you already know this, i don’t gotta say the same thing
i just want the money, i don’t want the f+ckin’ fame thing
get the f+ck up off my phone, i’m tired of hearing it, rang rang
b+tch, i got a clip, like a blooper, ran a movie
and you know i get directin’ when i grip that f+cking toolie
i ain’t new to this sh+t, let me teach you all, my students
if i hear another x adlib i’m gonna lose it
giddy young style, you ain’t sh+t, why you flexin’
you can’t copy my flow, so you copy how i’m dressin’
your music is the worst tragedy since 9/11, everyone that’s died should be happy they in heaven
got a thirty round clip in my tactical vest
he was talkin’ out is throat, so we ripped out his neck
oh, you ain’t seen my tec, about time that you met
allstate bodying all these rappers for they loyalty check
yeah, f+ck you, and everyone that f+cks with you
press a tool to your head, you’re looking like a loose screw
chopper kinda sick, better hope it don’t cough on you
’bout to make headlines, once i press the issue
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