Print

Giddy-up Yeah How you rappin' all your life and you ain't profit? (Hm) How you claim to be a punk but you ain't moshin'? (Pssh) How you tryna book a tour but you ain't poppin'? (For real) Nigga think he Steph Curry, boy, you Ilgauskas Pop filter, bump stockin' One shot turn Steve Bannon into Steve Hawking R. Kelly, gigolo, I'm dough pilin' But I don't fuck with little kids, bitch, I ain't Woody Allen Now how you let a nigga run you out your own city? (Word) How you never catch a win, but you catchin' feelings? (Yeah) I ain't tryna have debates, I just bait bitches Put a price on your head, send my niggas fishin' Boy, you really Craig Mack but you think you Diddy Put this fuck nigga in a bag, he the new Missy How you let a **** nigga call you nigga? (Psh, hahaha) Uh More money, less fame, push my tracks deep These niggas ain't reviewin' your music, they reviewin' you Keep it to yourself, get your money, baby, keep doin' you Step out of line and show these Plaxicos what the Ruger do Now who is you? Double barrel, twin magic Hit the W, go through the roof SongtexteBase swell up and go through the coupe Pacin' at this nigga house like Peggy finna hula hoop, uh Lines around the block, feel like Super Tuesday Ballad of Biden, baby, we need new things Makin' love to your girl, pullin' tracks out the strings Pat the weave, I gotta water the soil 'fore I plant the seed Lots of information in these bars and schemes These niggas basic, all they know is jokes and memes Now let's face it, you hate me because you ain't me You think because I mention forums we the same type of dweeb Fifth up in your face when I catch you off-key This is how it taste when you talk and don't read Nipples on my suit, I'm lookin' for Mr. Freeze, count the green I don't got fans, I got fiends, what you mean? Show up to the studio, I'm dressed like Harley Queen I don't want no picture, give a fuck about your 'zine Snitches gettin' Christian, hope you rat up on your team Tell me all your secrets, pour out one, Lil B Tony Braxton pistol had 'em talkin' in his sleep These niggas don't rap, they incriminate on beat All I do is spit facts, get money, make heat Spit up in her ass, let her know that I'm a freak, don't speak Aus Songtexte Mania