Rrahh-rrahh (OH MY GOD, DID FINATIC MAKE THIS?)
On bro', I did! (Slimee-Slimee)
(Bow-Bow, Bltt)
(I feel like niggas not comin' like me with this music shit, you heard?)
Finatic (Bow-Bow)
Gang (Im So Slimee)
Gang-Gang-Gang (Gang)
On bro', i'm about to start tweakin'
Better pipe down, 'fore ya shit start leakin'
Pop out the cut, fuck all of that peekin'
I'll stretch me a nigga, for doin' that reachin'
I'll shake his ass down, seasonin'
My Young boy tryna shoot for no reason
Come thru my block, probably split him in regions
The Nine hit his face, leave his shit uneven
Tryna come thru here (hair), i'm departin' ya scalp
Weird ass boy, keep runnin' his mouth
Big 5iveten, boy, you know that's the Route
I'ma up with the blick, let it bust like a pouch
Niggas be dissin' on me for the clout
And, bitch, i'm a Champ, you know what i'm Bout
Bang at ya dome, boy, you better crouch
Put him in the air, now, he over the clouds
I'm awesome, when I let it spray
Let shit loose, probably give him a stray
Ya bitch on her knees, she ready to pray for the dick
Put him in a box, now, he checked like WIC
I had the vision, that I made him split
Red dot on his face, now, i'm poppin' his zit
Said he gon' do what? That shit a myth
Bitch, you ain't about it, you not doin' shit
Can't pull my cards, cuz' i'm too valid
I ain't competin', if you ain't a challenge
Yall love the media, niggas be childish
Sayin' my name, yall niggas be wildin'
Bro' in the field, he ain't playin' for Dallas
Hop out, bullets gettin' tossed like salad
He try to run, have him losin' his balance
I got him dressed up, call me " a stylist"
Edward Scissorhands, i'ma cut the bullshit
Metal on his nose, let it Ring, that's some Bull shit
Niggas really bitches, always beefin' over lil shit
Bullets probably wipe his ass, if he talkin' pure shit
Put his body in the air, flip him like gymnastics
Have him doin' backflips, leave his whole back split
Pull up with a Four-four and my aim Fantastic
I'ma take his flick, sendin' bullets like attachments
On bro', i'm about to start tweakin'
Better pipe down, 'fore ya shit start leakin'
Pop out the cut, fuck all of that peekin'
I'll stretch me a nigga, for doin' that reachin'
I'll shake his ass down, seasonin'
My Young boy tryna shoot for no reason
Come thru my block, probably split him in regions
The Nine hit his face, leave his shit uneven
Tryna come thru here (hair), i'm departin' ya scalp
Weird ass boy, keep runnin' his mouth
Big 5iveten, boy, you know that's the Route
I'ma up with the blick, let it bust like a pouch
Niggas be dissin' on me for the clout
And, bitch, i'm a Champ, you know what i'm Bout
Bang at ya dome, boy, you better crouch
Put him in the air, now, he over the clouds
Yea, she love me, i'm too goated
She on her knees, she ready to throat it
Big dick in her mouth, she chokin'
Just like a ball, girl, you better throw it
Fill him with bullets, i'm leavin' him bloated
Shits like missles, i'm tryna explode him
Insert the clip, on bro', i'ma load it
He tryna beef, so, i'm leavin' him roasted
Put him in the air, i'ma leave him floatin' (OH MY GOD, DID FINATIC MAKE THIS?)
Gang, Bitch (Mm-mmm)
(Mm-mmm)