歌词
Yo, yo, come, come, come
I up fye then bang, bang, I feel like Chief Keith
Bitch, I eat beef, drop a dot ****, we street sweet
Pussy, ain't finna drop no diss, my choppa spit heat
A, we be lurkin' on they back street
****, where you at? I let Hefe work the back seat
We had **** jumpin' hurdles like a track
A, bitch, check my bank account, you see more numbers than a stat sheet
A, fuck ****, not on shit when they see me out
Where the he gon' at, me? Fuck **** ain't gon'. wack shit
A, cut the cap shit, fuck ****, know, we stamp shit
We dead shit, fuck ****, use your brain to get your head hit
Me, ****, play you later, he say it's up with gang
That's a death wish, I just told a bro, bring me his brains
Get you a necklace, a glizzy and a pen
This a cat, it's not a hemi
That ****, yap, I don't wanna hear him
She got her head in my lap while I'm steerin
I see that boy when I look in the mirror
His diamonds blurred, mine's clear
You can't show me a ****, I fear I get any **** ass up outta here
My killer, tap him to the pavement
Then go tat a tear, uh, uh
I got thigh pads, this ain't no madden here
Touch a turner on just like a iPad, then fuck her from the rear
Bitch, you better not book me for no show, you don't want no guns in there
Uh, and I book me for shit, you don't even remember
Uh, I'll fight and bang, bang
I feel like Chief keef
I eat beef
Drop your low, we street sweet
Ain't finna drop no diss, my choppa spit heat
Written by: Christian Pigues
