Cringe Control

Yeah
Time to hit 'em with that three-peat
First we had 'em Lost in the Sauce
Then you know we ain't with Cuck Life
Dubloadz on the beat
Yeah
Crichy
Crichy
It's Crichy Crich, biotch!
Chain hang low like I'm Flavor Flav
Bitches soaking wet when I hit the stage
Squeezing on the gat, make 'em feel the bass
Haters get smacked, put 'em in their place
One time for the bosses on they grind
Two times for the bullets in my nine
Gotta get it, think I'm running out of time
Gunning at your top if you run across the line
Fuck all of your gimmicks, ho
Fuck all of your gimmicks
Fuck all of your gimmicks, ho
Fuck all of your gimmicks
Fuck all of your gimmicks, ho
Fuck all of your gimmicks
Fuck all of your gimmicks, bitch
(May I have your attention, please)
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks
Fuck this shit, let's make some more Dubstep
I don't see 'em, they vapors, I'm busy finding that paper
That infrared got a laser, my speakers wake up the neighbors
I stay away from that danger, I take the hat off a stranger
I try to hold in my anger, I put your head on a hanger
I don't see 'em, they vapors, I'm busy finding that paper
That infrared got a laser, my speakers wake up the neighbors
I stay away from that danger, I take the hat off a stranger
I try to hold in my anger, I put your head on a hanger
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck your, fuck your gimmicks, bitch
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you bullshit



Credits
Writer(s): David Nardolilli, Cody Richardson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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