Perrion - Fire Ant lyrics

[Verse 1: Perrion] So what else I got to do to get through to you fools? I guess you can only use my height, which is miniscule To try to ridicule, but I make you look pitiful Surely getting rid of you, you ain't sh** but a unit, n***a you been a tube Been to school already, so f** it, I don't need it again Only thing a n***a might need is a paper and pen If my phone dies, f** your stupid corporation Four hundred dollar suits, and bow ties Can't wait 'til these hoes crying While they chasing after the bus taking off driving And all you neutral-a** rappers can eat a dick While I'm eating fish sticks, speeding in my stick shift Whatever, rhymes so simple, my rhymes so clever That's why I'm so much better And f** y'all hoes I ain't trying to settle I'm getting unattached from these birds like feathers Never try to wife them up, and you're corny as sh** And played out, I might as well white Nik' you up Sorry homie you ain't popping no more It's over, now I'm eating fool, ya popcorn I'm busting off like I just stopped watching p**n Trying to peel off in that new drop top Porsche I'm in my own lane, homie you driving off course I 'ma keep rapping 'til my voice hoarse, n***a [Verse 2: Perrion] Well, I finally found some more inspiration After the first album dropped I've been gaining a lot of anticipation n***as been hating, waiting for a n***a to fall But since they hear what I'm capable of flight gals They all fake and stuff, I call them a bunch of kids And they hoes want to ménage, but I don't want to f** with them And they expect me to be cuffing them because they man's a f**ing loser Oh well, good luck with him These hoes are like scissors to papers that be cutting in I'm trying to keep my money fat like its got a double-chin So so-long to all the exes and hoes No time for games, X's can't get next to my O's Cause I'm trying to stack hella g's You think you better? Fella please It's common for me to be with the bread like yellow cheese And f** you haters that never believed Yeah I'm sure I'mma be loaded with the wrapping papers like Elves on the Eves On Christmas; You cannot miss these simplistic bu*tered rhymes Spitting colors sh**'s ballistic If you don't understand look it up If you need help rapping homie I can hook it up n***as be k**ing me, think they k**ing sh** When they free styling and it's really written Your bars need more premeditated thoughts While I'm meditating with this medication I bought And that's straight from the West Coast These rappers talk sh** 'til they hear me spit now that's less boast This whole team is superlative conspiracy Call a n***a out on his face there's no fearing me n***as is lame Kept hanging they never going off like a f**ing grease stain, mane Trying to obtain the big dollars, f** a train Shout out to my n***a Slim--holla