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rackski 63 - why the fuck would i get mad about a bitch lyrics

[intro]
(jetsonmade another one!)
brr, brr, brr (boom, boom)
southside on the track, yeah!
grrah, slatt (what?)
you know what the f+ck it is
why the f+ck would i get mad about a b+tch?
never
(yeah, hoe—talk that gangsta sh+t)

[verse]
i’m only mobbin’ with demons, crooks, and k!llers, b+tch, my circle insane (insane!)
she wanna f+ck for a feature, b+tch, get out, i don’t barter with lames (nah)
i don’t drink lean, i just like to pop out with poles and unload that flame (grrah!)
catch me in traffic, two glocks in the console, turn yo’ whip to a f+ckin’ parade (boom, boom!)
i rob, i scam, i steal, i trap—whatever gon’ keep my lights on
i f+cked her on the couch with the pipe out, while my ski mask still stayed on (facts!)
he flеxed with a .9, i walked in with a k, now his dumbass jawbone gonе (grrah!)
big .45 got kickback nasty, feel like i just broke my arm (d+mn!)
b+tch, you broke? then why the f+ck you speakin’?
don’t even talk unless you paid somethin’ (huh?)
yo homie died, and y’all ain’t slidin’—y’all must’ve forgot who sprayed somethin’
i’ll shoot that b+tch through a peep hole, hit his dreads, now he laid frontin’
these opps so weak, it’s sad—i’m laughin’, clutchin’ my strap while my face jumpin’ (heehee!)
don’t ask me nothin’ ’bout who i hit—just know i’m high off victory (slatt!)
yo baby daddy still wear fubu, tell that bum don’t mention me (broke+ass b+tch!)
you can’t sit with us or vent to us—ain’t no motherf+ckin’ sympathy (none)
i was in that alley with a loaded tec and a hoodie from ‘23 (boom, boom, boom)
hopped out the cut like, “boom, surprise!”—he caught six to the chest, no trick or treat (dead!)
[bridge]
i said f+ck a diss—we do walkthroughs with them sticks (walk it!)
she said i’m toxic, i said, “good,” then left nut stains on her kicks
i’m in a trap with 4 goons, 5 bl!cks, and 6 bricks (big motion!)
if he dissed 63 again, he gone get zipped in front of his b+tch (bag that boy!)

[outro]
brr (boom)
slatt, we sweepin’ sh+t like janitors
i ain’t missin’ no f+ckin’ shots, that beam hit fast like camera shutters
she asked why i’m always in war mode—b+tch, i sleep next to my cutter (slatt)
b+tch, i’m the problem, i ain’t duckin’ sh+t—i like when opps get b+ttered (grrah!)
we ain’t spinnin’ once, we double back, clean up the crowd, make sure it’s covered
another one chalked, no tears, no pain—just death and trauma smothered
(why the f+ck would i get mad about a b+tch, huh?)
stupid ho

- rackski 63 lyrics

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