High-Score Boy

I told that bitch what I'm drinking
She said Del get me some sticky
Looked her right into the eyes
Told me to promise and took out her pinky
Woah
Can't make that promise lil baby nah
Making a promise so hard yuh
You made a hoe feel important
But you make her heart fall apart
Woah

Hands over my eyes
And my face in the corner
All of these ladies be lookin at me
And they think I'm important but bitch I'm just not
I blame they taste
And I love the music, I make every day
I make no money, bitch I be broke
But, I got these girls that be touchin my face

They think I'm pretty, I'm handsome
They think that I got the moves
Baby girl, I don't got no moves nah
Look
Look at you
Look at these girls that you fall into
All of these girls think we bulletproof
Bulletproof
But we pull it through
Uh
I take this bullet out the chamber
Put it to ya brain and pull it straight baby
You ont really know, but she gon eat ya heart like Jeffrey Damer
Dalmer,
I ont really give a fuck
With yo 101 dalmations
You my cruella baby
You are the crux of all my problems
But
Move that back muchacho
I got a bitch, I trot like Harlem
I move a brick like the Bob the builder
I'm blowin up that's a kamikaze
I'm getting top from a topless model
Eating tapas in the hot bahamas
Or Timbuktu give a fuck I travel
But just know I don't care bitch I'm not Obama look

I'm like a Thomas Shelby
I would do anything for my family
Bitch I can be
Sick of all the money that they wanna hand me!
Uh
I swear its really unreal
Rappin with me man these rappers be ill
But they think its sweet
Stomp on their face until they see da feet
Straight out the mud like I'm playing in cleats
Left, Down, Right, Up all I'm seeing is cheats yuh
Give a new meaning to the word defeated
And all my feats and accolades
Are goals they chase
Trynna beat em

I'm your
High-Score boy
And it makes you sick down to your stomach
I don't think you're crazy
But move those feet like we in the 80's
I'm talkin moonwalkin like Drake Be,
Maybe I'm wrong and you want the 90's,
Cha cha slidin, move ya hiney

I'm your
High-Score boy
And it makes you sick down to your stomach
It's okay baby
But move those feet like we in the 80's
I'm talkin moonwalkin like Drake Be,
Maybe I'm wrong and you want the 90's
Cha cha slidin, move ya hiney
I got the chills and they multiplyin
Go back in time and lets do grease lighting

I'm your
High-Score boy
And it makes you sick down to your stomach
It's okay baby
I don't think you're crazy
I'm talkin moonwalkin like Drake Be,
Maybe I'm wrong and you want the 90's,
Cha cha slidin, move ya hiney
I got the chills and they multiplyin
Go back in time and let's do grease lighting