Spidey-Senses

(Enrgy made this one) Hey Quarter ticket on me, no need to exaggerate It's the middle of the week, but it's feeling like a Saturday You ain't got no pull, I'm known from Maine down to Santa Fe Running up my accolades Tell a bitch to act her age Couldn't even hide that he was slimy, dog a rattlesnake Shit, I'm too schooled on the streets, I had to graduate Tension in the air, we see the opps, make 'em evaporate Sippin' dirty Mardi Gras, them robbers make a masquerade You a dirty bum, don't make me break down and elaborate Could've went and grabbed a normal foreign, tryna stack a Wraith We ain't givin' extra point-ones, let it calibrate Life ain't a fairy tale, the villains be victorious Shit, I'm thumbin' through a book, I got more pape' than a historian Fuck around and fly the whip around, you'd think it's a Delorian He won't come outside the crib, stay in the house, he just be Coryin' Jefe knocking patients down with scripts, Dr. Kevorkian Dub, dub, dub, dub, this year, it's been glorious German source on Discord, he got me speakin' Sorbian On the road with fire slides and punches just like Scorpion All that rah-rah you talking, it don't un-lame you Shooters, they been practicing, gon' fuck around and gun range you You been MIA, shit, you must be out of luck, ain't you? Ask a bitch like, "If I up this roll, you gon' fuck, ain't you?" Part time hustle comes with part time results When I pop a P, it's like Bruce Banner turning Hulk Shit, I feel my Spidey-Senses tinglin', spinnin' the McLaren All the horsies in the trunk, you'd think the whip came with a carriage Belt to ass, see the opps and whip 'em like they parents Wedding Cake touch, plug text like, "It's time for marriage" All these stores lettin' me down, might catch a flight to Paris Know you see this jewelry on my neck, gon' strain an eye from staring Yeah, my pain deep, but my bag deeper Told the plug, "Pull up with loud," he came through tryna blast speakers If I like it, I'ma grab it, I am not a tag reader Shit, he runnin' out of miles, just go check his gas meter Catching bricks, glass cleaner Where I'm at, grass greener Said he sent a hundred mutts, but shootin' with his bad finger SIG Sauer with the long nose like an anteater Tryna add me up, someone go please go grab the math teacher Shit, fuck, finna geek up like we at the Comic Con Every time I see her, I get ate, call her octagon How I took off in this foreign whip, you'd think I shot to prom I can't give the new punch site, that bitch bomb.com Hunted down some retro red, it's finna get nostalgic Smokin' California in Miami, but the kicks Italian Militia vibes, you catch a hat and you gon' get medallions Gang be running her like errands, why you think that bitch a stallion? We ain't gotta check dog, he gon' self-guard Dee got the LMG, he tryna hit your health bar You still probably rocking Roc, this some Hellstar Punch work so fire, it might melt cards I can't tell you where we workin' at, location unknown I'm a rapper, let the ARP sing all the love songs We gon' make it flood, throw it up 'til the club close (ShittyBoyz, Dogshit Militia) Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, damn