No Chorus

Big C.O on the beat

Got the filthy Five Sno'Cone Krispy Kris
Wags Big C.O and Aymock never miss
In charge of the game when Sno'Cone takes flight
Takes out the rifle to shoot Aymock from the right
Gotta check him out but things turn to a fight
Throwing punches at each other all day and night
In the stu with Krispy Kris
But he's always taking shits
Tracked it on the shit map
And it's such a big crap
Nobody fucking with this man
Can't even get his ass off the can
24 drinks ain't enough for wags
Gotta give him more or he'll pack his bags
Give him some gummies and he'll get drunk too
Fucking his girl when he's at the zoo
Knock knock who's there it's the Big C.O
Always been a jokester with a big afro
Throwing shade to the man
Got his album I'm a fan
Can't be missing ain't no junk
Prays to god but not a monk
Yeah I'm talking bout Aymocker's
At his house there's always stalkers
Hansom man playing the piano
Best in the world but you already know
Man's a beauty
He's on duty
When he's at cadet's
Eating the baguettes
No one's sending threats
Cause they know he'll fuck you up
He's gonna smash you like a cup
That's the filthy five
Won't keep you alive
They're in overdrive
So won't you take a dive
Into their album with me
I'll show you why they fuck with filthy

My name is Kris
And I have been missed
Licking some balls after taking a piss
Going to Quebec to try and reset
But the boys are gone
And that feels wrong
So I pull up to Whitby
After leaving the city
Eating some chickpeas
Which smelled kinda fishy
I felt somewhat witty
And also a bit tipsy
So I dropped the bomb after having a quag

Filthy Five bout to be Filthy Four
Cause just like my dad we'll leave the kids at the store
I'll be honest our rhymes aren't very clever
But let me go through all of our members
First there's Aidan he's gonna go away
Gonna go and learn from those who educate
My homie Andrew he's doing lots of drugs
He's a true hippy and he loves to give hugs
Then we got Ian he's an alcoholic
The car he drives is standard but he's never gonna stall it
Finally Kris you know about him
Locked up in the jail for teaching cripples how to swim
The beat I made I think it's alright
But not as cool as flushing my phone down while on a flight
Anyway I hope you learned something
Now I'm gonna break Carti's windshield with a pumpkin

Sno'Cone on the track from the filthy mans
Bring your bag hundred bands and the Gucci backpack
Drive around the track
In my Subaru outback
Don't let me catch you lack
Cause I got my fucking gack
I will not cut you slack
Dunk on you like Shaq
Won't my boys attack
Put a bullet in your back
Have you seeing black
Imma go get a snack
While I go play neck
This shit is whack
Like the way yo mama on my sack
It's about to go down in Chinatown with Bray
Flexing in the fruity mart
Hope these bitches get smart
Fore this shit start
Jay in the Jetta and he's ready to drive
Aymock makes sure these crackers won't survive
Big Phil and he's coming to bafish
Hassa hassa in the pool that's Philly's favourite dish
Andy's pissed so he calls Philly a fool
Chinatown Boy boutta take him to school

Smoking some grass
While I'm clapping that ass
Mushrooms in my system messing with the contrast
Take the boys to the cottage we throw a lot of kunai
Connor drops them on his toes he may not be a wise guy
Hey Kris you were missed
I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get a kiss
Ian's writing while he's shitting
Cans we be hitting
Not a huge fan of beer
He's the king of the deer
Ain't no vegetarian
A raging Hungarian
Aidan's never been high
He's got a whacky tube guy

Big C.O walking down the street
Cooking up some heat
Try to write a better beat
That would be a great feat
Only cooks up heat when he in the recording room
Don't believe me just listen to the bass go boom
Krispy Kris
Definitely one to miss
Bad things happen when he poops better stick to piss
He could fix any car that you own
Sitting in the back going ham on the trombone
Wags bumping all the tags
Stacking up the dollar bags
Chilling in the back gets the joint down in three drags
Out here selling cookies to the whole school
Always having fun hanging out at his pool
Yeah my homie Ian
He's a superior being
Always in ground school learning bout aviation
We go way back to the forest trying to start a fire
He's always way up in the clouds always flying higher



Credits
Writer(s): Yung Carti
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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