*Intro*
I got what you need
I'll fall the f** to sleep
*Verse*
1,2,3 please stay away from me
I ain't got no other motherf**ing pure realities
2,3,4 yeah its been ratchet galore
We as creepy as the children that I'm sampling you who*e
I'm a motherf**ing n***a from the 908
It ain't that bad but these coppers constantly running my license plates
Heaven on Earth with a fence for a gate
On a couch where I lay
In four day, "CARRY" hit 4K
Making beats, doce
n***as need old bay
This is me forte
Yes, I'm still lacking the tour dates
Bad scholar, rad saga
Came up in a Valhalla
Lit prophecy notes
She so lethal
So good to me, it should be illegal
p**y balance me out like seesaw
Back f**ed up, looking like Igor
Running round the city with a blade in my G-Shock
See cops, then a n***a gotta take a detour
Au revoir,au revoir
Sunny yet pulling out bread like I'm packing a toaster
Covert, dragging her overseas
Europe, and up in them ovaries
Pull the ba** back, y-3 tag on a truck cap
Hit my wifey with the "we just f**ed" dap
Why bust back?
I'll return all my love on one track
The f** is wrong with you
I done heard a lot about your a** remaining mute
About spotlights, about shooters
I'm a motherf**ing powerhouse
n***a, we could do this
We is brutal, not Brutus
Juggernauts, not Judas
n***a, went on your page barely saw any music
Threatened because we like that
Acting like you ain't have this sh** on a gold platter, fight back
Yeah, my n***as the key
They way you treat all your boys, they ain't family
And motherf**ers gotta act like we all on the same level
He better than me AND you
Now wet us
I got a vendetta that's bigger than berettas
And any n***a that's being pa**ive can sure get it
Shooters?
n***a, who you kidding
You be in the hood, grinning. You the next Diggy Simmons
Busy running round the world
Trying to see where you been in
Man, I swear to God I ain't tough but I'm ready
Got my 'talians
Shouts to Mr. Celitti
These bars make your upper back shift into confetti
And shouts to your dad he's the real one
150% percent sure I got my own son
Open up the orange bottles until the pills gone
n***as gonna try and murk us like we the pilgrims
Chill son, I got my studio near the bathroom
sh**ting on folks and then I gotta go vacuum
s**ed out my soul, them selfies you got it bad news
All your raps is Sade, the sweetest taboo
Damage, ya see
n***a, would you believe
Cop a n***a tampons if he tamper with me
f** you, you ain't in no upper league
Little b**h boy. Invert W-V