pinkblxxd – rick owens freestyle lyrics
[intro]
you know, um, pinkblxxd, when i see ’em i’mma whoop yo ass, b+tch i’m sick you talk shi+
[chorus: lungskull]
poppin’ molly, am i next?
bl!cks and a k, when i catch him stomp his face (oh, what a thrill)
runnin’ down your hood with the mace, cast a f+ckin’ spell leave that boy stuck in the mix
f+ck the feds [?]
i’m poppin’ percocets, hopin’ that them b+tches laced
rick owens my feet, i stump em’ into you how that sh+t taste
rick owens my feet, i stump em’ into you how that sh+t taste
[post+chorus: lungskull]
ahh, ah+ah, i put mud up in that syrup
[?], i’mma hit his f+ckin’ face
hollow tips hit his face, now it’s blood all on my shirt, [?]
i was tryna hit his b+tch but now she gettin’ merked
[verse: pinkblxxd]
yesterday she gettin’ merked (merked)
we gon creep up on that hoe ass n+gga, we gon’ f+ckin’ lurk
you not bout’ no f+ckin’ sh+t, my n+gga, pull up we gon’ work
almost k!lled that n+gga, and i got his blood up on my shirt
yeah we run up with that bag, we on go
we gon’ cook some sh+t up n+gga, we gon’ sell all this blow
little boy’s tryna run away, pay me what you owe
we gon k!ll that f+ck n+gga, he get sent down below
we gon’ run up in the crowd like a f+ckin’ mosh pit
n+gga get out of my dm’s, n+gga i don’t owe you sh+t
you can see that f+ckin’ glow, yeah that sh+t is on my wrist
yeah she give me f+ckin’ top, i don’t wanna give a kiss
n+ggas steady on my d+ck, n+gga get up off my sack
they be fiendin’ for some candy like a f+ckin’ flapjack
n+ggas worried ’bout me, they not focused on they bag
n+ggas dissin’ dead n+ggas, they don’t know sh+t, it’s sad
n+ggas flexin’ they drug use, flexin’ f+ckin’ shrooms
n+ggas be that bold they just stay up in they room
n+ggas got an ego, they ain’t even make it, they a fool
i could give less of a f+ck, n+gga i’m just cool
[chorus: lungskull]
poppin’ molly, am i next?
bl!cks and a k, when i catch him stomp his face (oh, what a thrill)
runnin’ down your hood with the mace, cast a f+ckin’ spell leave that boy stuck in the mix
f+ck the feds [?]
i’m poppin’ percocets, hopin’ that them b+tches laced
rick owens my feet, i stump em’ into you how that sh+t taste
rick owens my feet, i stump em’ into you how that sh+t taste
[outro: sample unknown]
you’re fortunate your arm’s broken. if not for that you wouldn’t be getting off so easily
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