(Ooh shit, that's a Danny G beat)
Ooh shit
I had a D in English class
But I was grade A with that reader writer (reader writer, reader writer)
Picked up pints and peas up out the farm, I feel like Peter Piper
I was thinkin' bigger, y'all can use it, we gon' be suppliers
Ron stay with a script like he Peter Jackson
Divin' in the crowd to catch a play, that's their Derek Jeter action
Set up shop in Iowa and fuck up Cedar Rapids
I got some chicken, cheese, and green like a Caesar salad
Yamaha, and brodie slidin' on a ATV
Supreme Timbs, came a long way from ACGs
He a role player on his team, call him KCP
Blowin' Russian Creams, Drac'd up like the KGV
Smokin' two Runtz, it taste like yams mixed with mac and cheese
Tryna drive a manual off Quagen, I might smack a tree
Eric Emanuel, the shorts chillin' at the beach
MIA, all these plugs, I might grab a key
A dollar in the drum, he better have some Juggernaut
Bitch, I've over up, nah, I ain't no underdog
White sticks, chocolate tints, lens like a Wonderball
Bitch actin' weird, ain't need a knife when I cut her off
I was off the porch, you live the sports life
We can split the pizza, tell my bro to grab his fourth slice
First classer, it say main cabin when you board flights
Finna tear yo' bitch walls down like it's Fortnite
Not to mention that the robbers lootin' in yo' crib
Sippin' out the baby bottle but ain't droolin' in a bib
Wild a pop and let go, I been foolin' since a kid
When I'm shootin' at his rim I ain't hoopin' in a gym
I done caught a hat
Spinnin' in the Redeye, fucked around and get a flat
Fuck some mornin' s*x, you ever woke up, caught a jack
That's what get me goin'
I'ma short him, if he call back, tell him my digi' broken
Shit
Blick with the button, hit an opp and I'ma change his channel
Burberry straight from London if you see me play the flannel
Half a 'bow of Backpack Boyz, you out here facin' Camels (ugh)
So much white up in the kitchen, cuddy the Michelin Man
Touchdown with blue and yellows, lookin' like Michigan fans
Cut it out and take me to the plug, you be middlin' grams
Everybody wanna be a thug 'til shit hittin' the fan, damn
If they check the scoreboard, they gon' rage quit
Lesson learned, life a book, that's another page flip
Bein' safe ain't really safe so, bitch, we armed and dangerous
I ain't worried 'bout a thang, I'm in the hood danglin'
I ain't give a fuck from the start
Never had to trust in my heart
Thousand dollar total, use a punch for the cart
I'ma catch all timers when this blunt gettin' spark, for real
(Ooh shit, that's a Danny G beat)
(Tommy what is goin' on?)
---
Rage Quit - BabyTron
