Bully / Scum
Blood stained white tee, cracked screen t.v
Beaten for no reason like my first name was rodney
Cult shit, im leading
On the ground, bleeding
Tell them mothafuckin bullies try to come and find me
Please remind me, followers behind me
Cause i shine bright in the dark like some white teeth
My shit is poppin, shit is hot like wasabi
And that car crash still fuckin with my psyche
Fuck with me, no luck
Bitch watch me blow up
Midwest dreamin, east coast demon
Skin all burnt he a west coast heathen
Fuck a crib ion't need it
Nervous when u meet em
Hated on by those w hella fragile egos
Back it up in reverse
Boi don't play round w my hair
She need rims on that tesla n a jacket made of fur
Boi i roam in tha south
Gimme gold for my mouth
He got ins, he got outs
What the hell u on about bih
Bitch boy, im the shit boy
Thought you knew boy
Im the new kid on the block, you a fluke boy
Im a reject, fuck school, up and leave that
Ima pop off on you fucks, best believe that
Acne got me acting up
Numbers they stay racking up
Accountant stay up adding up
We still way too rad for ya
All my dawgs pack a punch
You want that smoke, we got a bunch
Got the vision, got the touch
Shut up boy you talk too much
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Beaten for no reason like my first name was rodney
Cult shit, im leading
On the ground, bleeding
Tell them mothafuckin bullies try to come and find me
Please remind me, followers behind me
Cause i shine bright in the dark like some white teeth
My shit is poppin, shit is hot like wasabi
And that car crash still fuckin with my psyche
Fuck with me, no luck
Bitch watch me blow up
Midwest dreamin, east coast demon
Skin all burnt he a west coast heathen
Fuck a crib ion't need it
Nervous when u meet em
Hated on by those w hella fragile egos
Back it up in reverse
Boi don't play round w my hair
She need rims on that tesla n a jacket made of fur
Boi i roam in tha south
Gimme gold for my mouth
He got ins, he got outs
What the hell u on about bih
Bitch boy, im the shit boy
Thought you knew boy
Im the new kid on the block, you a fluke boy
Im a reject, fuck school, up and leave that
Ima pop off on you fucks, best believe that
Acne got me acting up
Numbers they stay racking up
Accountant stay up adding up
We still way too rad for ya
All my dawgs pack a punch
You want that smoke, we got a bunch
Got the vision, got the touch
Shut up boy you talk too much
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Live fast die young, scumbags do it well
Credits
Writer(s): Brayden Kirkman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.