[intro]
Why can’t i make my shit without these rappers on my dick they [?] like, homie you ain’t finna hit just so you know
I’m making hits while everything you droppin’ miss, you really grits, if you want diss but you won’t spit at me cause you know you’ll get smoked
Make something different ‘stead of making the same shit that you’ve been making since a jit, you fell off way before you even caught a flow
Of a image different from what you’ve been speaking, of a rapper who gets bitched out of they shows get new fucking-
[verse 1]
On facetime with yo bitch, i’m sayin’, sh-she milk that
If sh-if she throw it back, she might get a new chanel bag
I-i-i ain’t bring a pack, they like “brokie do you smell that?”
I-i get a rack, buy perc’s, then i sell that
That boy call me broke, so i’m aiming where his wealth at (bow bow bow)
Took his gucci clothes, had me laughin’ till i fell back
And i fucked his ho, he ain’t know because she felt bad
She call me the goat, i’m like “ho, i can’t help that” (skrat)
In the hellcat, whippin’ thru the city streets!
You ain’t felt a band, in your hand, how you giddy me?
White-white-white boys in the suburbs [?] like, (you litty g!)
Nah but in all seriousness my music is pretty heat
Who told you you the g.o.a.t, boy you really weak
I’m silly geekin’ off the perc, upset bitch i’m a pilly freak
Shout out- shout out to my spotify lil homies with the milly streams
You ain’t finna hear this cause young brokie cannot get a lease, to this beat (i’m really broke)
Every time she see me, i been in the meet’
I-i-in the sheets, every time she see me i been with the heat
They-they-they ain’t caught me lacking even though brokie been in the streets
Fuck all-fuck all of my corny haters, never really in the streets
I’m really industry, have fun in the underground lil ho
I’m having business meets, with all of your idols now lil bro
You-you ain’t shit to me so you best stay in silence ‘stead of whining bout me genre-hoppin’ go and make your rhymes that fucking blow (you fucking suck!)
Why can’t i make my shit without these rappers on my dick they [?] like, homie you ain’t finna hit just so you know
I’m making hits while everything you droppin’ miss, you really grits, if you want diss but you won’t spit at me cause you know you’ll get smoked
Make something different ‘stead of making the same shit that you’ve been making since a jit, you fell off way before you even caught a flow
Of a image different from what you’ve been speaking, of a rapper who gets bitched out of they shows get new fucking flows
I’m fucking done rapping
[outro]
Buy new flows, you sound the same on every song, why do you sound the same on every son-