Calculated

Catch me skating like Nyjah
No ice though
& I don't see no rivals
Unless they dead on arrival
They're just reaching for the title
They just need recognition
(I know)
I scope them out the rifle and pipe blow
Iso
Iso
I don't
Need no assist
When I go, When I go
I'm on some god fearing warrior shit
No weapon against me formed will hit
'Cause If they get me it's over with
But they can't get me I'm on with this
(Calculated)
And my instrument's out of Texas bitch
Yeah I love my Mexicans

(Mm)
Yeah I love my Mexicans
And she hope I text again
But that shit irrelevant
But she shoot her best & shit
Yeah she shoot her best & miss
I'm on with the next & shit
These bitches
These bitches
These bitches flocking like magnetic fields
Fucked the bitch now she got some prosthetic hips
Drippin while Im ridin like I'm ridin on candy wheels
She so bad, I might smash, yeah while we standing here (Ay, Ay)
And I fuck bitches I ain't supposed to & shit
I fuck with her friend, asked her move over real quick
She sleep on the kid, till she heard em quoting some shit
She was still peeping, but now she really want me and shit (Ay)

I was down, then my whole life flipped
Homie actin weird, and I'm thinking that he might switch
I was real little watching all the white flip
All the jays was teaching me how to fight and shit (Ay)
Then I'd go to school and fight and shit
My whole life, it's been leading to a mic and shit
Big pole riding lookin' like a hockey stick
Pockets bussin' and you fuckin' with your pocket lint
Pockets bussin' and you fuckin' with your pocket lint
Pockets bussin' and you fuckin' with your pocket lint (Ay)
Big pole riding lookin' like a hockey stick
Big pole riding lookin' like a hockey stick



Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Bass
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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