Lana Del Rey

Watch your mouth, I am not the one

Fantasies playing with a gun

American spirit stay on my lungs

Two years in, I've held my tongue (hold up, okay)

Two, oh, twenty-one, I was stomping in this bitch

I was gonna change lives when I dreamed of getting rich

I got a whole bag then I turned into a trick

I can't help myself, I've been thinking with my dick

I get way too paranoid, no more Za when I smoke

Back-to-back tobacco nigga, not too long 'fore I croak

Brixton on me, I be looking like a bloke

Can't tell me shit, every song is on go

Go

Go

Ay, ay, yeah

Ay, I swear to God, I'm so sick and tired of these niggas, y'all (go)

Ay, put that on my Mama like

Ay, huh, ay nah, for real (go)

I don't use a pen, I use an EpiPen now, for real, for real

I'm allergic, to these lames, dawg, for real, for real

Toxicity, got it from hood trauma, for real, for real

Love and compassion from hood mommas, for real

Okay, big dream, wide-eyed, head in the clouds, skydive

Say the shit, but never do it, no sir, not I

She run her mouth, it's evident

You never hear the end of it (ay)

Yeah, her brain a ten but the bitch ass a nine

Man, these niggas washed up (ay)

And I'm cool with that (okay)

Don't connect wit' what you sayin' 'cause yo' service trash (hello? Hello?)

I'm in a puffer coat made under a London flag (oi, oi)

Tryna find out where I'm at, nigga, Google Maps (Google Maps)

Okay, street view, oh my God, he in a bag

I like ratchet hoes, pretty face, plenty ass

Why the fuck these hos never cool wit' they dad?

I need to run it back, I need to run it, wait, go

Go

Go

Go

Go

(Go, go, go, go) go

Let it go

Your time is up

I'm on the road

I'm counting up

They picked us

So big me up

Or shut it up