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pope cyrus vii - coffee, iced lyrics

[intro]
he hasn’t slept in probably, uh, seven days
seven
seven
you are watching a master at work
you watchin’ the juice

[verse 1]
sell that tar, i got black in the bag
f+cked yo’ girl, got mags in the bag
everybody wanna go find my stash
v’s and the i’s, i’m wavin’ that flag
45 hits, yeah i’m too drugged out
if he talk down, i’mma hit him with the roundhouse
walker, texas ranger kick
got a walker, texas ranger fit
shawty unb+tton my flannel, yeah
she tackle me, that’s actual, yeah
now she gon’ take my boots off, yeah
i’mma use the free head coupon, yeah
stealin’ drugs from walgreen’s
i stole guns from every walmart
shoot him in the guts, he gon’ be like

[chorus]
bad milf shawty, she all on me
whip full of cougars, i’m ricky bobby
now i got scratches upon my body
number on your back, hockey
hired a hitman, you gon’ die
i got guns, you ‘bout to die
all of my opps unlucky as sh+t
they ‘bout to die
neck on coffee, iced
all my beats they nice
neck on coffee, iced
all my beats they nice
[verse 2]
i could face a thousand blunts
i could eat a thousand b+tches
they know me, i’m on a mission
knock you out your f+ckin’ britches
wearin’ a holster i’m at the saloon
chester, it’s high noon
one, two, three, shot ‘em all
f+ck the marshal, f+ck the law
country roads, these b+tches curvy
flip her ‘round, i will reverse it
all my b+tches over thirty
think i found my f+ckin’ purpose
oh, this sh+t’s not simple
i give shots, you givin’ tickles
lil’ red car, i’m stuart little
got bread, got cheese, where my pickles?

- pope cyrus vii lyrics

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