Crown

Shackle down, I would never pay for a pound
This hooker in the gown, I will beat her to the ground
Boot-boot to the head, then I shoot, now you're dead
Sucka don't want smoke, hold on, let me take a toke

Why you boast?
Now you lookin' like a damn ghost
To the most
Walk up to the show and I'm the host
You's a foolie
I got the bang, hit you with the toolie
Now you're snoozing
Killin' all these bitches 'cause they losing

Get-get it
Two-step, I just want the boof pack
Oh, you think you know Jack?
Come on run your knapsack
Blessin' all these bitches
You think I am a fool
Freddie is a killer, now you don't know what to do

Fre-Freddie sittin' there with the crown
He gon' be the king of all the putrid underground
Where you gonna be when I am countin' all my rounds?
All these little rappers tryna act up, you a clown

Fre-Freddie sittin' there with the crown
He gon' be the king of all the putrid underground
Where you gonna be when I am countin' all my rounds?
All these little rappers tryna act up, you a clown



Credits
Writer(s): Monty Criswell, Chase Rice, Shane Minor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link