Tricky
Yeah
Mm
Livid
RedRum
Bitch it ain't hit me
Bitch it ain't tricky
They hate to play with me
Bitch you can't get me
It's like tag, they miss and miss
I swing back, just like that and hit your ribs
I don't know what you assholes think this is
You're mascots, now do your little dance again
Do your two step slide, move ya hips and bend with it
And who's that guy, who talks shit till the pens dripping
And off with your head till he's obviously dead and you take the noose that's tied off his neck till the threads ripping
I talk that talk
And walk that walk
Gimme a one on one and bitch I'll drop you off
I got that sauce, and the swagger that drips off me
You will never come and capture this shit off me
This shit for the birds bitches twitching the nae nae
Bitch I'ma be big as 50 Cent in his hay day
No Hurricane Chris, but I been searching
"Aye bay-bay"
I'll turn this fucking place into a circus and melee
Why so serious?
Rewind, you'll hear the shit
Think we're bouta crash, I'm tryna steer the shit
I bet you're so relieved that I only hit one spot
One line hits your whole team, they're calling me buck shot
Bitch it ain't hit me
Bitch it ain't tricky
They hate to play with me
Bitch you can't get me
It's like tag, they miss and miss
I swing back, just like that and hit your ribs
I don't know what you assholes think this is
You're mascots, now do your little dance again
Talk about rhyming dawg you ain't in my weight class
I just want a target I can spit and throw flames at
You must be retarded if you're talking that same crap
You're clearance at Target, dawg we ain't on the same rack
I'm platinum, you're brass
I'm back on your ass
When it comes down to crunch time, the captain is back
Take a breath, inhale, and just take it in
Are you motherfuckers ready for the main event?
Roy Jones in his prime
You ain't doper than I
Boy you over the line
Are you hoping to die
I just shoulder the weight
Till you open the gate
I'm a nightmare bitch, I ain't goin away
Y'all stay angry
I'm John Wayne Gacy
I clown your ass and kill you, wonder why they hate me
Bitches cry and shit cuz no one likes you
You think I'm lying bitch? They overhyped you
Bitch it ain't hit me
Bitch it ain't tricky
They hate to play with me
Bitch you can't get me
It's like tag, they miss and miss
I swing back, just like that and hit your ribs
I don't know what you assholes think this is
You're mascots, now do your little dance again
RedRum
Mm
Livid
RedRum
Bitch it ain't hit me
Bitch it ain't tricky
They hate to play with me
Bitch you can't get me
It's like tag, they miss and miss
I swing back, just like that and hit your ribs
I don't know what you assholes think this is
You're mascots, now do your little dance again
Do your two step slide, move ya hips and bend with it
And who's that guy, who talks shit till the pens dripping
And off with your head till he's obviously dead and you take the noose that's tied off his neck till the threads ripping
I talk that talk
And walk that walk
Gimme a one on one and bitch I'll drop you off
I got that sauce, and the swagger that drips off me
You will never come and capture this shit off me
This shit for the birds bitches twitching the nae nae
Bitch I'ma be big as 50 Cent in his hay day
No Hurricane Chris, but I been searching
"Aye bay-bay"
I'll turn this fucking place into a circus and melee
Why so serious?
Rewind, you'll hear the shit
Think we're bouta crash, I'm tryna steer the shit
I bet you're so relieved that I only hit one spot
One line hits your whole team, they're calling me buck shot
Bitch it ain't hit me
Bitch it ain't tricky
They hate to play with me
Bitch you can't get me
It's like tag, they miss and miss
I swing back, just like that and hit your ribs
I don't know what you assholes think this is
You're mascots, now do your little dance again
Talk about rhyming dawg you ain't in my weight class
I just want a target I can spit and throw flames at
You must be retarded if you're talking that same crap
You're clearance at Target, dawg we ain't on the same rack
I'm platinum, you're brass
I'm back on your ass
When it comes down to crunch time, the captain is back
Take a breath, inhale, and just take it in
Are you motherfuckers ready for the main event?
Roy Jones in his prime
You ain't doper than I
Boy you over the line
Are you hoping to die
I just shoulder the weight
Till you open the gate
I'm a nightmare bitch, I ain't goin away
Y'all stay angry
I'm John Wayne Gacy
I clown your ass and kill you, wonder why they hate me
Bitches cry and shit cuz no one likes you
You think I'm lying bitch? They overhyped you
Bitch it ain't hit me
Bitch it ain't tricky
They hate to play with me
Bitch you can't get me
It's like tag, they miss and miss
I swing back, just like that and hit your ribs
I don't know what you assholes think this is
You're mascots, now do your little dance again
RedRum
Credits
Writer(s): Brock Simpson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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