FIYAAA!

Yea
Gasoline tank
Now your stomach hurt from the shit you drank
Drank
Drank
FIYAAA

Yea abs on fire
Yea abs on fire light yo ass up
Liar Liar bitch now yo pants on FIYAA
Pistol 360s round my finger and i press
THOOT THOOT THOOT FIYAAA
Red bandana round my head ultimate fighter
20 30 ab shots to grow some balls
Abs on FIYAAA
This shit'll Light a flame under your ass
Got you running marathons
Meep meep
Until you crash
I'm a mad scientist i make mad tracks
Mix em all together
Make bombs and i thank the comrade
You have no business here i am the puppeteer
All strings attached to my ear i'll tell you what i hear
2021 Mr.Cruz is Best Of The Year

I'm a crazy person i do crazy things like write my bars when my head full of bricks
Call it Writer's Block
I punch through and you stick
Bloody knuckles
Watch you struggle and take a sip
Of my tea and take a seat
Cross one leg over the other
You take a peak
You ask how did you get over the wall with all that barbed wire
I said bitch i am
BOOM
FIYAAA

Black stripes under your eyes you feel like Rambo
Took out a whole brigade all on his own
Machine gun loaded with bullets that'll leave a whole
That a mole can crawl through
Gnawing on your soul
And that's how most of you feel when you see your numbers fall
Money to Streams
Ooh such a tragic loss
Big bright eyes
Your heartbeat fast as your eyeballs
As if your grandpa had been chased down by a chainsaw

You lack endurance
You're not in it for the long haul
One night full of alcohol
The money comes in and at first you're in aw
Until it starts exposing all your flaws

Yea
Fast as FIYAAA

Yeaaa
I catch that muthafuckin
I catch that muthafuckin grenade like a ball
FIYAAA
We chew it and spit it out
Run up in yo house
Yea i run into your house
Yeaaa
We shoot and we don't care
We different



Credits
Writer(s): Alex Cruz
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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