Getta Beats
Not everybody can record
Bitch, you definitely can't record
Hey, hey
Ain't in my choice, ain't in my life
I'm out in Five Points, getting high high
Like a hippie, five joints, cup tie-dye
You the type to score nine points, sit the sideline
We gon' sip till the pint empty, hey
We gon' smoke till the bowl gone, hey
Bad ho, only like Benjis, hey
Bitch diggin' for some rose gold, aye
Turn a cup of ice to a snow cone, hey
Turn a cup of Sprite to a snow globe, hey
They don't follow by the bro code
You ain't gotta type, all you follow's broke hoes
Oh, that's your ho? That's my lil' go-go
You a rat, so your son, he a lil' po-po
Dub on the screwbacks, lil' JoJo
You would think I'm from the crab, do a lil' showboat when I walk out
Shooting pills out, it used to be Joe Dumars
They used to be shy, nowadays hoes too guards
Eyes low, you would think I know Kumar
You would think it's Star Wars, I clone Tukar
You a punch guy, I clear two carts
Exotic in the leaf, wine-blowing rhubarb
This bitch morph chrome, boy, I need a new heart
Control all the lean hoes, I don't need a tool bar
I heard they said they want the retro Tron back
I feel 'em though, shit, I want the retro watch back, huh
Hey, I wanna pole up in the live wire, where the retro pops at?
Bitch a rabbit, I ain't even have to set a cheese trap
He ain't even got a mattress, just a set of bean bags
You would think this bitch had a extra set of knee caps
If she come out in that bonnet, I'ma lay my seat back
All I think's racks
Lil' bro, he out his shit, all he think's straps
It's so dark, all he think's black
Try to teach fuzz how to rap, but all he think's trap
I guess all he think's rap
Ever since I watched The Wire, all I think's taps
Shit, when we talkin', I don't wanna see jacks
Rich fuck, thinkin' caps be Supreme hats
I don't got a heart, I think I bleed black
I don't give a fuck, I gotta speak facts
Alfredo goods, all inside the cream lap
When it's wartime, you gotta know that you can't re-rap
Bitch, how is you an esky? You ain't got no client
I can tell you never made no money, shit, you gotta try it
If I'm lyin', then I swear to God I'm flyin'
They like tryna lock you in, but I swear to God I'm tryin'
Every day, every night, you know
Better fight back, you gon' lose every fight you don't
Bet you finna grind for the life you own
Gotta know I shine before the ice I own
Zip your lips with the Zips, what we like by Bose?
Y'all just stay at home crib, livin' life like hoes
A movie might be too short, shit, my life like Shows
High as hell, turnin' left on the opps block, tryna right my wrongs
Where the Morty at?
Your bitch on my pickle, Rick, get your shorty jacked
With her lil' horny ass
Bust all that junk food, pop .40 black
Blood'll slide with machete in this gory bag
You the type to get re-rocked, you dimwit
You know, baby, tryna cut like my wrist slit
I pull up rockin' Rick on some slick shit
You a pig, so your daughter she a piglet
When they hear this, they gon' say I did my big one
All the hoes was fine, shit, I didn't wanna pick one
Nah
How the fuck you ain't get one?
Oh, they wanna play? I'll pull a trick one
Talkin' 'bout a skit? I'll pull a quick one
Brraow, I'll pull a flip one
My Zaga Zod fuel low, let me twist one
I guess he had Jesus with him, how he miss 'em?
Every thought, ah-ha
Everything I talk about, it be currently
Had a dream that they chalked out and murdered me
Then I woke up laughin', they want her to be
Zips, three-fifty, drop-offs at the service fee
Catch 'em out and I'ma do that shit in the worst degree
I don't know about you, I don't know
I don't know about you, but every day be the first of me
ShittyBoyz Dog$hit Militia
Long live $cam, R.I.P. Chris
You know the script, T-Double-H-L shit
You ain't scared, huh, hey, huh
S-P-D-S-M, Troncic
S-P-D-S-M, Troncic
S-P-D-S-M, Troncic, 7-7
