Текст пісні
Alan want me to rap on this beat
Even after he said no when I asked
But it's all good
Ay, ay, ay, bitch
Bitch i am a beast i take yo mama to the store
Eat the kitty like some groceries she beggin me for more
Yeah im hangin' out with Alan we just hit a fuckin score
Matter of fact I'm getting louder cause you need to hear me more
Pistol on my waist you don't want no fuckin smoke uh
I got hella' money in my bank just like a broker
Heater in my hand talkin shit and ima toast ya
Run up on me you get shot you wont get closed
What the fuck
Holy shit
Fuck
Alright, uh
Breaking news, close like, fuck I forgot
I forgot what I was gonna say
Fuck, I can't fucking
Just go to the verse, goddammit
Rookie motha fucker, your really tryna fucking play?
This is the big boys table, this aint no fucking game
Put a x' on your eye, then square you up into pieces
Bury you in a circle, then eat a triangle pizza
(Dior)
Ay, what's the deal now I'm spinning on your block
Yeah I caught you being lame, don't be someone that you not
Why you getting in my lane, you a motherfucking bot
We the best, X you out if you ain't at the top
And I'm like
Fuck
Shit
I'm a psycho in this bridge
And me n Dior over here boutta' fuck you up (like)
Big time big time
Boutta' hit that big rhyme
Cause you just wasting our time
And we just might need a dime
Wait no we need a quarter
For the shopping cart
Cause we need to go 'round the store
For some supplies,
Cause me and Dior just cooked some more
But w hungry as fuck so we just made smores
Yeah we made some smores
Bitch
Yeah, we made some s'mores bitch
How much