Authentic

I do me, I ain't never give a fuck about the next wave

I done seen so many entertainers come and go

Some'll blow up others treated like a sex slave

Get fucked, do whatever the record exects say

I've been raising hell for some decades

Back then, we ain't argue online

Got a problem, we don't call him

Tell him meet up back where Nick plays

Stepped up with his chest out, left him in a neck brace

Educate yourself on who you fucking with

You scared to shoot somebody, what the fuck

You take a picture, with you gun for

That ain't your friend, but you known him for a month

Now you don't believe his dumb wife, stripping you at gunpoint

and y'all a tool collar boy

And I eat, need to save your guts and glory

For your story on your IG

Drinking tequila, fuck a lime squeeze

Stiff with mines, the eye sneeze

Hit the trees and I dry heave

I've been inside of my car, just fuck a backwood

I'm not a fan of the harsh and swollen garshes

I'm hard and I'm heartless, smart and I'm sharp-dressed

Who you know that got his own face on a cigar band, that's me

Burn marks on my carpet, find a couple Xanny bars

In my sharp bag, and I ride like a tar pit

Then I start up in my car, hitching me carter than Harvest

Where this broad lives, inside of her baby fathers apartment,

I offered her hard dick

She took it, I finished and left

Happy that's a piece of pussy I didn't regret

Ain't nobody censored me yet

My shit's authentic, but at times I've been a victim

Of identity theft

You got some missing pieces in your chemistry set

You tried to copy in a lab, but didn't get it correct

But let them give it their best

There's only one of my hardest-honored rapper

That ever exists, and they call me Rittz, bitch

And I'm Dudja, bitch

Aiming for the top like a shooter, bitch

If she talk too much, I can mute that chick

Put my dick in between her lips like a cigarette

Life or death, rhymes stay fresh till my dying breath

Fuck your threats, you ain't in my league

You inferred, you infidels