MATHIAS TYNER Aye, yeah Aye, aye, aye, aye, yeah, woah Guns drawn, neck slit, bitch, I got a deathwish Body bags get zipped, they testin' 'fore I stretch shit My pockets progressive, your pockets depressive Pull up with that stick, [?] sorry I got wishlist Glock, nine Don't need no strap, we could fistfight Body on the curb, make him flatline Bitch I'm insane, I don't act nice Red dot, designate location, no conversation Raging, [?] stay shit Main bitch, she like to face dick until she braindead Faceplant, I leave his face split up on the pavement