tic tic

Pyroman
(Ayy, Rvssian)

Ye, bad b- and a mistress, know my main b- having misfits
Lane-switch when I ride, it's raining outside, I hope I don't hit s-
I'm a time bomb, n-, tick-tick, Richard Mille, that's some rich s-
F- a h- and you gon' tell the gang 'cause you a f- lame and that's some b- s-
Gucci denim, feel like Dapper Dan, know I'm the f- man, ain't gotta tell it
Pull up the Rolls Royce, that's a Cullinan
I know it smell like weed but I don't sell it
But still get a pack in and I mail it, I be on trap s- with three tellies
I bring a bad b- to the telly, she don't ask for the d-, then baby won't get it

Championship ring and I know what it bring
Couple bottles, some w-, and she riding on me
Don't like attention, I black out the windows then slide with extendos
We riding lowkey
N- be broke and plotting on me
N- be fake so watch your homies
I can't even lie, I'd rather be lonely in a whip with a b-, I watch her dome me

Whip matte-black, ride with the cutter
You let a n- done die with your brother
B- ain't s-, won't ride for another
Now I ain't s-, I lie, say I love her
B- ain't s-, I lie and say I love her
I can't cut ties with the butter
That leave you upset when you love 'em
I say f- that, just gun 'em, down

Bad b- and a mistress, know my main b- having misfits
Lane-switch when I ride, it's raining outside, I hope I don't hit s-
I'm a time bomb, n-, tick-tick, Richard Mille, that's some rich s-
F- a h- and you gon' tell the gang 'cause you a f- lame and that's some b- s-
Gucci denim, feel like Dapper Dan, know I'm the f- man, ain't gotta tell it
Pull up the Rolls Royce, that's a Cullinan, I know it smell like w- but I don't sell it
But still get a pack in and I mail it, I be on trap s- with three tellies
I bring a bad b- to the telly, she don't ask for the d-, then baby won't get it

I don't really sing, that's cap, I rap, but they say that I do so I tell 'em like f- it
I take a bitch to McDonald's and tell her to get what she want
And she better McLove it
If she ask my name, I'll tell her McLovin'
I don't make love, a n- be f-
She don't suck d-, a n- won't bust
She got on Michael Kors and I don't trust

I'ma be nasty, be disgusting
Still ride with the gang-gang
Free them boys out the chain gang
They ain't lost s- but they still tryna maintain
I'm a bad boy causing ruckus, uh, bro still tryna slang cane
F- bad b-, get money, better know the game, mane

Bad b- and a mistress, know my main b- having misfits
Lane-switch when I ride, it's raining outside, I hope I don't hit s-
I'm a time bomb, n-, tick-tick, Richard Mille, that's some rich s-
F- a h- and you gon' tell the gang 'cause you a f- lame and that's some b- s-
Gucci denim, feel like Dapper Dan, know I'm the f- man, ain't gotta tell it
Pull up the Rolls Royce, that's a Cullinan
I know it smell like weed but I don't sell it
But still get a pack in and I mail it, I be on trap s- with three tellies
I bring a bad b- to the telly, she don't ask for the d-, then baby won't get it



Credits
Writer(s): Tarik Luke Johnston, Rodolfo Argueta, Naujour Lazier Grainger, Nicolas David Zita
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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