Cruzin'

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Ion give a fuck I do not know what's right
See you in the mosh and I punch out your lights
I feel like batman I roam in the night
Smoking these niggas got me high like a kite

Nigga talk shit make him quack like Alflac
I keep them pounds in my Jansport backpack
I'll put a body in a mofuckin napsack
Heard you love talking now feel as your

Head crack
Talking that shit get a back smack
Drawbacks
This rockstar life is a hard path
Saw that
You ain't bout it you ain't all that
Raw stacks
This check I'm getting for these packs

Post outside your house with that butter in a sock
And this yoppa it's gon knock when I fucking kill you off yuh
(When I fucking kill you off yuh)

T'd up I be T'd up
Go get your fees up
R I need a R
From all these debuffs

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

Bitch I'm cruzin' for a brusin' I don't care

When I get hungry I smoke on some green
Just got some blood on my Air Force and jeans
Offa this bar I am on Planet Sheen
And if I see opp stab em dead in their spleen

Bitch I'm insane I see white when I close my eyes
Come in my brain you will see it's a waste of time
Better refrain from that talk leave you mute like mime
You'll end up slain my sanity is a thin line

Ayy
Bitch I'm Joystick I'm a controller rapper
I don't give a shit stick my dick in her bladder
Don't matter nigga I know you a capper
I know you sweet inside cause the outside a wrapper

Your plastic easily broken it's fantastic
A fanatic I'll start a cult based off being ratchet
So tragic you spoke and it got graphic
It's magic how fast I can make you panic

I could care less if your hispanic or chromatic
As long as your organic mess with us that's problematic
I'm known to be erratic or sometimes barbaric
So don't cross me lest leave you leaning like italic

I'm feeling sick
Maybe gas do the trick yuh
Always keeping a blick
For these nigga talking shit yuh

Whipping rash in a van then I go pop a xan
She ain't text me back K I'll fuck on her friend yuh



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

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