歌手:BlocBoy JB
专辑:《I Am Me》

作词 : James Baker/Nathaniel Phillips
作曲 : James Baker/Nathaniel Phillips
Oh my ******* God
Kushy got a retainer, haha
(Damn Trap, that s**t slappin')
Hah, ayy (Word)
I get more ass than a lawn chair
I like a ***** with some long hair (Hair)
She shakin’ that ass and throwin' it fast (Throw it)
That makin' me wanna go bone her (I wanna ****)
Sneak dissin’, lil' boy, watch your tone there (Huh?)
I'm not givin' you s**t, I'm no loaner (That's on mama)
If you do what I do, you a clone there (Word)
Sat down with a nine, young ***** did some long prayer
Ride around your block with a corner
I might just serve me a corner (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
He a barber, that boy used to comb hair (Huh?)
I might walk through your hood just to roam there (Huh? Huh?)
If you reach in that glove department, trap phone there
Give it to 'em like a donor (Donor)
Why beef 'bout a ***** if I really don’t want her?
I check them hoes off the list like Nike Air (Woah)
**** her in your house and spend the night there
You caught me, I know you don’t like that s**t right there
You fought me, that's how you got that lil’ black eye there (Huh?)
You diss them Crips or the Nation, you die there (Yeah)
Send your location, I fly there (Fly there)
Eight-legged freak, send her back in my Spyder (Spyder)
Four hoes on me, I'm the s**t like a diaper (Diaper)
I'm comin' off the dome like a cypher (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Two-tone (Two-tone)
Audemar my wrist, I got designer on my ’fit ('Fit)
No collision, but *****, we be callin' hits (Rrah)
In the Expedition, we got 'bout 37 sticks (Doon, doon, doon)
Heard your ex went missin', I got her ******' on the clique
No supervision, radar in this ***** (*****)
No record label, got my A&R in this ***** (Rrah, rrah, rrah)
Shoot a ***** in December, that's a cold hit (Cold hit)
All that sneak dissin' got your folks hit (Folks hit)
Caught a body, same gun, hit the show with it (Yeah)
Do whatever for the money, baby, go get it (Woo)
Thousand dollars for a front row ticket (Yes)
It's all fun until your dough come missing
Call my ******, do a door-door kickin' (Kickin')
Say you a killer, get your mojo missin' (Missin')
Say you a P, better slow your pimpin' (Pimpin')
*****, I be solo Crippin' (Crip, crip)
*****, better slow your pimpin'
'Fore your ******' folks come missin'
Say you killer but your mojo missin'
*****, you ain't gettin' no money
Take a notepad, *****, you came with that ***** (Oh)
I'll tell you 'bout these slow ass ******
Say they a shooter but they gun ain't never on safety
Nah, we ain't even gon' play
Nah, we just **** 'em on the pavement
Nah, ******' your ***** on the pavement
Nah, man
S**t is litty in the city, *****
*****, **** comin' out in this
Boy, why you put that s**t in here, boy?
Trapomatics made another one
Why did you do that? Stupid