[ tali & milo ] - [ flames - freestyle ~ 6 ] lyrics
[ flames + freestyle ~ 6 ] lyrics
[verse that won (verse 1): kreative kid]
you smell like a crusty, dirty hose
hey, what are those? (got ’em!)
[verse 2: y2kbby]
hoes wearin’ thrasher with fire on it
but, it should be on their v+g+n+ cuz they burny
my verses are hot, i throw major sh+t
and you already know i won this tourney
spittin’ fire like i ate a jalapeno
b+tch, this is a gift from zeus, call me neno
i’m a flamethrower, and i’m shootin’ flames
i make your mom scream out my name
[verse 3: ilomilo]
flames, all those other b+tches lame
pick+me girls, b+tches are insane
flames, all those other b+tches want the half of my fame
pick+me girls, b+tches all the same
you ain’t quirky, you just dirt
tbh, n0body gives a f+ck when you get hurt
i’m sippin’ the champagne, you b+tches are in pain
sayin’, “what the f+cky? how’d you get this lucky?”
hoe, like i’d want you to know
as if, you b+tches blow (bro)
b+tches know where i’ve been
b+tches say they want to be friends
but i know it’s just for my bars
sorry, honey, you get zero gold stars
(f+ck it, let’s change this beat! it’s jada’s turn)
(ilomilo!)
[verse 4: jada 0/////0]
thank you, milo, for that introduction
all them pick+me’s tryna do that reproduction
but i’m not with it, only music, no interruptions
don’t wanna say it twice, so give her the instructions
i do as i please, don’t need no permission
i go with my gut, heart, or intuition
don’t take me for granted, limited edition
that b+tch is bipolar, she starts making tension
that’s why i’m single, but it gets lonely
but you can’t tell who’s the real and the phonies
that’s why i just keep it between me and the homies
but n0body can really, truly know me
[verse 5: 19]
tba
[verse 6: øddity]
i been f+ckin’ up every freestyle
but i’m better than y’all by nearly a mile
sippin’ monsters and wearing camo, you look like a kyle
you ain’t even got bars, you don’t give me a d+mn smile
i’m about to give you some emotional damage
hurt you so hard you won’t know how to manage
i’ll spray you with the mac if you try to take advantage
my rhyme schemes are insane, like a polka+dotted mammoth (what?)
you calling me trash, but you listen to kels
call me glaive, cuz i sold out, cop a mil’, i might as well
yeah baby, i’m 5’4’’, but i’m ripped as h+ll
my girl knows what i can lift, but i’m 140 pounds
d+mn, as long as i’m giving out info, might say my address
and i got my social security number on my bulletproof vest
might got less iq but i’m smarter than the rest
but for my ingrid homies, i’d take a bullet to the chest
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