Walnut Jones - Fiction lyrics

[Verse 1: J Trauma] Fake b**hes so weak, they like combustible elements I'm harder than corundum, you pussies lookin so delicate Talkin sh** to me, I'll crush your whole skeleton Haters so mad, they real salty and petulant I say one word and make your girl wet as an ocean You showin emotion, she likes me more cuz you're atrocious I'm prettier than Flacko, making art like I'm Pica**o You rappers are nothing, eat y'all up like tacos I've been it, your woman saw my dick, she beggin I ripped her a** and nutted on her face, happy endin Call me Ugly Mane, I send em to the essence You wacker than Pakyed, my music is a blessin Uh, I smoke about two dimes and get to business Make your b**h twerk so much, she sweatin more than a gymnast Make about a couple thou, that's my destiny Rob you for your weaponry cuz that's my f**in specialty And I'm at my highest supremacy, I'm k**ing this beat intentionally, cuz I don't give a f** bout actin respectfully Not afraid to make new enemies, I'm chugging so much Hennessy, I wonder what's my current life expectancy If she say no, I'll murder her fiance She know I'm flyer than a V-22 Osprey More connected than preteen b**hes on Fun Run The only time I ever give a sh** is when the blunt's done Uh, and you f*ggots know I run this Keep my name out your mouth unless you like crutches f** a pa**ing math grade, only counting these hundreds Stop talking sh** to me, your breath smell like onions! So does the gutbox, I'll just eat from my lunchbox How you stink and expect me to get in between your bu*tocks? Gunshots be louder than my white widow, every trait of me is like a magnet for these white bimbos Blowin on that indo, jizz up in that b**h ho, if she gets pregnant imma throw her out the window You gettin mad because I'm in your mama's playlist Ion even know why you f** boys try to deny that I'm the greatest On your A-List, other pussies spitting gay sh** You practicin ollies in the game, I'm bustin tre-flips I ain't cool with y'all, y'all ain't cool with me, diss me in a sh**ty f**ing track, bruh, that's cool to me Uh, it's a b**h rapper holocaust, chain em up, slice em open, pelt em all with Molotovs J Trauma always victorious, f** defeat And now my homie Walnut Jones about to crush this beat [Verse 2: Walnut Jones] Got alot of property And we live in poverty never living properly Every night a robbery,they prolly robbing me Or raping up my neighbors inside her ovaries Theires no apologies, we dont see no policies Cause getting into trouble are our only qualites We taking all the G's and we building colonies In the belly of the beast where a demon a swalloed me Another night in projects taking all these objects Sell em for a profit at the pawn Breaking into closets,looking in ya ride Some guy telling us get off his lawn.. We gotta do em wrong, I look over at my n***a sean I gave him the signal it was on reached in his back Got black gat bap bap bap and then we had rannn And i didn't look back, man tell me whats use Just see a n***a leaking like juice Threw up the duece, my n***a had to scat Told him not worry, i would get rid of the gat But i was playing cat, curiousty had k**ed me Fingerprints revealed me, how could i be silly I returned to my home where I saw blue and red I knew in my head that that 2 of us were dead I was gonna cry, but i never shed a tear from my eye If im gonna run, i gotta try My memory is dry Now I wonder why Probally cause The story that im telling is a lie