I got a 40 on my hip
I got a 30 up my nose
I got 20 inch rims
Holin down with 10 toes
I got zero time for hoes
5 9 is the gang
I’m just sayin how it goes
I’m just showin off my fangs
All these lames
All these dames
All these chains
I can’t do it
All this fame
All these claims
Its all the same
I think I’m movin
Barbed wire around my body
Oddy fuck with nobody
I made millions off a hobby
Still feel anxious in a lobby
Uh
Its like my soul is made of real tree camo
Flauge
I’m in a dodge in a garage huffin exhaust
Realest thing about me is my middle name norman
This whole time ya’ll have been witnessing my joker performance
I don’t give a fuck I’m over it
Take me off my leash and then meet ruby da fuckin doberman
Titties, cars, outfits stupid trends on social media
All I see are demons conjuring up pedophilia
I got glocks with no kick
I got Ks with a switch
I got head I can’t forget from a young new orleans witch
I got xans in my (spit)
I got uhhhh lemme check
That’s your whole life’s work on mother fuckin wrist
I got chains I don’t wear
I got pain in my glare
Fuck your song I don’t care
Fuck your gang it don’t compare
If I hang it’s in the air
Got it tatted on my throat
I’m the antonym of broke
Change my legal name to goat
And she like oh my God
Why you go that hard
Everything that wetto touch it turn to avant garde
More junk then pull a part
Just put some in my arm
They call me track mark shorty
Shoot like Jason Bourne
Told shake I need 100 pack
Throw my dog 100 racks
Carrying the gang
You would think I got 100 backs
Googling my net worth
That won’t even cover tax
Still that boy up out the shack
Now fix your mouth and run it back
I got nothin else to say that already ain’t been said
I got people want me dead cause of messages I ain’t read
I got 59 problems I’ll solve em with FN’s
9 times outta 10 it be always ya best friend
I got sweat drippin’ fent out my pores and demons dance around cut em down with my forceps
She cream on my cock when she bop in her corset
Ima hug the block with my hellcat and my Keltec
Hellbent
Fuck a mood ring
I got mood swings and AR’s
Drivin’ too sus
I put 30 in your new car
That boy don’t drink
This .300 make em blackout
Hit her from the front but this backstroke make her tap out
Fah fah fah fah SMG*59
It go La La La La .223 the back line
Let it sing
Let it sing like my Springfield XD9
Yeah my glocky Regis Philbin that boy need a lifeline