Rollin down the street, car rocks set of switches
Axl rose, no hydraulics, do you get it b**hes
Rockin guns and roses hand gently set it twitches
On the trigger as he bites down on the end it hits his
Frontal, disgruntled, this little c*nt is just seven inches
From his demise, watch him co*k back, sets the finch his
Only words for the birds is to spread them wings and
Fly motherf**ers, die, other f**ers use syringes
I prefer a different kind of shot but that aside
Last straw, step on the petals, hey, I guess that's a ride
Hay riding, get it yet, naw, b**h hats aside
I'm pedal to the metal, f** a stock, I'm a mastermind
Fully upgraded, and updated, with an alibi
And his flow's all that, no Amanda Bynes
Said his flow's all that, no tampa time
Yeah he's eastern, something like a motherf**in' panda I'm
Silent as a Pantomime
I'm so sick, sinister
Sick as minister
Touching ya sister
They hug and f** and kiss her
This sh** is sick bruh, the illest realest scripture
Ya get the f**in' picture, i'm off a gram no insta
I'm on my f**in' tinder, i'm laying logs like timber
Just kidding, tinders for narcissistic pigs, you's a sick f**
Duke you just lost half your fan base, why f**in' this up, because you dick s**in' sh**s missing metaphors while you get yo sh** f**ed
Just cuz you met a four of a Reddit forum, you think you in love
No f**er you in for a treat, just hit that sick s*ut like a sick pup, drown her in dick or crowne her like Vick, either way just get your sh** up
Then put her body back in the coughin' b**h, you sick f**
You can lick s**, stick tuck and sip duck, that's a pecker Peking out your neck ring while you dick s**
You f**in' stiff cuck, you b**h buck, let's get shucked, a corny motherf**er, never change, f** a tip cup
This kids tough, as sh** son, I said don't get rough
‘Less you lookin' for a whoopin' like a cushion, sit up
So sit back, relax, throw your f**ing kicks up
Baby, grab a drink and kick back with a sip cup
This sh**s cuff, and I'm off it, on my WIC stuff
Stomping on these fruits, food stamps, get it yet son
I bet not, the bets off, put your bets up
The kids bluff'll pick up, something like a tricked truck
So give f**s, or don't, cuz I don't give much
Just walked into the party, I'm already on my fifth cup
My fifth fifth, my sixth hit, and my next f**
My seventh heaven, eighth eighth, ninth life, and tenth chuck
I ain't talkin' shoes although I got it on em, sick's stuck
To the holes in his soles and cuts in his slick stuff
This sh**s done, sorry for this pent up
Anger, consider this payback for the days when the kids f**ed
With him, now the rhythm got em hittin' up the kid for
Xanies cuz they heard he spittin' bars, minus mitzvah