Rain
I don't give a fuck what these people think
'Bout what's in my cup, 'bout what's in my drink
Sparkin' up my blunt 'cause I had to think
Shawty wanna fuck on the kitchen sink
Bitch, I'm spittin' blood in the kitchen sink
Shawty fell in love, now she on my (huh-uh)
She just want my drugs, I just want her (huh-uh)
She just want my drugs, I just want her
I let the Alpine play, did the full 360°
Blood on the seats, Lil Peep rollin' with me
Two white hoes, call 'em '06 Britney's
Flights outta Houston, we cookin' up the Whitney
I just need a full script, a full clip
Busting outta Calabasas, I banged a punk bitch
Got the tape recorder playing out the Sony Walkman
Why you talkin'? I do this often, stay away
Bitch, I'm masked up, come and put the shotty to my face
Let it bang, let it bang, let it ring
Kurt Cobain, picking up the pace
I feel like a general, I put you in your place
Fuck a Drew Barrymore, I never need a date
Fifty-first shots, baby, fifty-first dates
You know I had to hold them, had to cut 'em with the spades
You know I'm lookin' better when there's blood up in my face, bitch
I don't give a fuck what these people think
'Bout what's in my cup, 'bout what's in my drink
She just want my drugs, I just want her (huh-uh)
She just want my drugs, I just want her
'Bout what's in my cup, 'bout what's in my drink
Sparkin' up my blunt 'cause I had to think
Shawty wanna fuck on the kitchen sink
Bitch, I'm spittin' blood in the kitchen sink
Shawty fell in love, now she on my (huh-uh)
She just want my drugs, I just want her (huh-uh)
She just want my drugs, I just want her
I let the Alpine play, did the full 360°
Blood on the seats, Lil Peep rollin' with me
Two white hoes, call 'em '06 Britney's
Flights outta Houston, we cookin' up the Whitney
I just need a full script, a full clip
Busting outta Calabasas, I banged a punk bitch
Got the tape recorder playing out the Sony Walkman
Why you talkin'? I do this often, stay away
Bitch, I'm masked up, come and put the shotty to my face
Let it bang, let it bang, let it ring
Kurt Cobain, picking up the pace
I feel like a general, I put you in your place
Fuck a Drew Barrymore, I never need a date
Fifty-first shots, baby, fifty-first dates
You know I had to hold them, had to cut 'em with the spades
You know I'm lookin' better when there's blood up in my face, bitch
I don't give a fuck what these people think
'Bout what's in my cup, 'bout what's in my drink
She just want my drugs, I just want her (huh-uh)
She just want my drugs, I just want her
Credits
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