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Got a blunt
Pop a trunk
Fill it with a fuck boy
Bitch boy spilling his guts
Stomach acid mixed with blood staining my all white white-laced SB Dunks
Cop a couple bucks out his back pocket
Wallet got to have something
Otherwise i got to snatch something
So I pulled out his heart from his chest
Left the rest for his bitch and then left them
I ditched for the seventh
Fuck a motherfucker ducking
Tucking in his tail
I got a bone to pick with motherfuckers trying to see me fail
Creeping like a vulture bitch i'm following his trail
Picking on his bones for the flesh
Leave the flies with the rest
Leave his body growing pale
Close his mouth with nails
Dead men tell no tales
Yung Jack Torrance with some bodies in the storage
Lil broke mother fucker with enough to pay the mortgage
Got that torture in my barrel
Them ghost inhibit my mind
It's that $uicidal junkie
Young Scorcese of my time
I'm creeping with 5 9 in the over look hotel
Taking one look at us you can tell we come from hell
I'm smoking and chanting spells
Packing a couple bells
Popping waves back to back
I'm always riding the swell
With all these drugs in my system
Be hard to keep my attention
The narrow run full of tempt to
I see no one but these fingers
The rinsed clues in existence
The only reason I'm itching
Itching to change all my present way
Without me switching emission
Or making millions
Intention to get it quicker and stricter
'bout getting money not flexin'
Then get some bitches start flexin'
And snatch a ring just for fun
'til I strike them digits and add it to ya
You'd be wishing that you would've fucking listened
Wish you listened to me
Pop a trunk
Fill it with a fuck boy
Bitch boy spilling his guts
Stomach acid mixed with blood staining my all white white-laced SB Dunks
Cop a couple bucks out his back pocket
Wallet got to have something
Otherwise i got to snatch something
So I pulled out his heart from his chest
Left the rest for his bitch and then left them
I ditched for the seventh
Fuck a motherfucker ducking
Tucking in his tail
I got a bone to pick with motherfuckers trying to see me fail
Creeping like a vulture bitch i'm following his trail
Picking on his bones for the flesh
Leave the flies with the rest
Leave his body growing pale
Close his mouth with nails
Dead men tell no tales
Yung Jack Torrance with some bodies in the storage
Lil broke mother fucker with enough to pay the mortgage
Got that torture in my barrel
Them ghost inhibit my mind
It's that $uicidal junkie
Young Scorcese of my time
I'm creeping with 5 9 in the over look hotel
Taking one look at us you can tell we come from hell
I'm smoking and chanting spells
Packing a couple bells
Popping waves back to back
I'm always riding the swell
With all these drugs in my system
Be hard to keep my attention
The narrow run full of tempt to
I see no one but these fingers
The rinsed clues in existence
The only reason I'm itching
Itching to change all my present way
Without me switching emission
Or making millions
Intention to get it quicker and stricter
'bout getting money not flexin'
Then get some bitches start flexin'
And snatch a ring just for fun
'til I strike them digits and add it to ya
You'd be wishing that you would've fucking listened
Wish you listened to me
Credits
Writer(s): Jon Crawford, Aristos Petrou, Scott Arcenaux
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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