Bird Call

Quack, quack I'm chilling for an hour, smoking weed, watching Worldstar Benz in the garage, probably got to drive your girl car You ain't a rapper, of course, never heard y'all I just spit a punchline, so now I need a bird call Hit your sister in the face with a Nerf Ball I'm dealing with some shit that really don't concern y'all Punch a fan if you get a fucking word wrong I'm wavy, get me some shit that you can surf on Finding me a bitch I can swerve on Frank Thomas homie, about to put the hurt on Your bitch a night light in bed, she turned on Throw some weed, tell her burn one Burn one, burn one, burn one, burn one Burn one, burn one, burn one, burn one Yea, I used to give a fuck about success Now I just want to see Mila Kunis undress Hope she down for butts*x, it will be a cum fest Sorry that's some shit I had to confess Crazy ass bitch doing 911 threats Came in the game smoking Newport Hundreds Now I'm at the top and the crown fit Gold on my outfit Surrounded by some p***y, I'mma drown in Got that wet pack, bitch come and give me that You know we want to know where them titties at Got 'em gassed, they be asking what I'm cooking with Have your little brother asking moms where the p***y is Corruption, stuntin' at the function Your girl p***y smell like Sour Cream & Onion Pay attention, you gon' learn something Roll that weed up, burn one Burn one, burn one, burn one, burn one Burn one, burn one, burn one, burn one