Wicked

Yeah, catch a body
Yeah, catch a body
Yeah, catch a body
Catch a body

Catch a body to this beat
Blood on my new coat, you crazy you think it's from me
Gotham is the new 803
My niggas keeping the G in the T
And I don't mean race
That means the Glock in the tuck
And they're bringing what's tucked to ya face
Running in place
Fuck leaving the window unlocked, I'm not guna run in yo place
(I know who is though)
But I got some niggas that'll come through the front do'
Call em Willona, Run in ya home
Gotta bitch that'll set up the lick
And she don't want bread she just want some dome
So I slide her some watch and some shoes
She wants the J's not the Jimmy Choo's
Grabbing them both and still let her choose
And what she don't want I'm selling to fools
Cuz I'm wilding
Groovy young nigga, I'm styling
Money like buckets I count it
Your money like buckets I'm fouling
Get em outta here

Wicked, Wicked
Wicked, Wicked
Wicked, Wicked
Wicked, Wicked

You know me I'm an animal
I got some shit that I gotta get off of my chest before I start going over though
I could go for a danimal
Walk around with the antidote
Still address me as the fucking pope
Go to bed with a lycanthrope
Wake up in a silk robe
I'm wickedly entertaining
When I get to rapping them niggas switch up arrangements
They know that I am amazing
I talk like a god but the energy give off satan
This shit coming from the basement
We moshing in hell and I'm looking to give a face lift
I'm looking to make you nameless
I'm looking to make you tasteless
I'm looking to make you gracious
I'm looking to make you unrecognizable to all the friendly faces
I'm looking to make a name bitch

I'm looking to make her taste this
I'm fucking this bitch on a balcony on vacation
I swear that this shits amazing
I just got her digits then twist her like combinations
Bending her back like Matrix
Slanging the Nebuchadnezzar until the paint chip
They saying I am the greatest
From making my memories rhyme and collect the payment
It's Groovy and ain't no question
All of the lessons I learned taught by Smith and Wesson
And toters of other weapons
I'm toking this blunt and exhale all of my confessions
To rhyme like this is a blessing
A gift from the gods but I sin cuz a nigga selfish
In the booth and the mic is melting
I'm done with the verse and the hearse is here cuz we're so

Wicked, Wicked
Wicked, Wicked
Wicked, Wicked
Wicked, Wicked



Credits
Writer(s): Ty Treyshon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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