FUNK PACK

Rollin' in the booth
Funk pack
This shit dense as hell
Wrote a letter to the lord
Shit must of been addressed to hell
Cus' I got some scheming opps
Lonely as hell cus' they can't pay they bails
All they dudes in for 5k bonds
You gotta raise them sales

I've been workin' on sum twisted jobs
I got a raise to hell
Only 2 people know you
Nothing gon' change
If you waste yourself
Bro gave it his all then gave up
He ain't pace himself
Boy you can't jus' walk into the fame
You gotta chase yo' wealth
I be movin' silent with my money
I get paid for stealth
I done seen some shit
That'll make me swear that i'll never tell
Talkin' bout how made money so quick
That's sum shit i'll never tell

Freaky lil' bitch
She gon' flash the gang with her jugs
On some seasoning shit
Yo' bitch a t-bone and i'm the rub
Barely made it to the CVS
I need a pint to chug
Got a dirty look on your face
Like let me swipe your smug
Sittin' on the shitter
Girly still tryna hit the blunt
I be lookin' for the loudest pack
Like yo' cousins subs
I can flip a bitch
Then hit her with my Italian sub
Ah shit I gotta get outta this bitch
Her boyfriend found out
I guess I must've left a couple crumbs
It's all good
He can't do shit
He only got 11 dubs

Yea this blick gonna stop you
Like you got super glue under yo' shoes
You smokin' for views
I'm smokin' you for views
Like I don't make the rules
The only thing I make is kings
Around me look like average dudes
It's funny cus' i'm a white boy
With a cut up hairdo
Buh' i'm not one for talk
I'll skin his ass then i'll wear dude
Yo' jewelry like Nigerian produce
I'm talking scarce food
I make scared fools
Change their clothes
Cus' they pants pooed
I ain't a player to these bitches
That shits to the game fool

Bitch don't know
Her job to suck dick and look good doin it
Your mom
Yo' sister
And yo auntie
Ya
I'm doin' em'
I call out your whole family
Cus' my dick is too true to em'
One of my fans don't do weed no more
It's the blues for him

Bitch said her butt is too big
She need a booty trim
Yo' girl got hair everywhere
She need a different booty trim
I'd lose your bitch in the snow
I'm tellin' her to try tan

That meant colorblind
That's why my bills ain't blue to em'
They seein' yellow lines
We put in more work than you
Of course we scored a better time
That's the only time we'll fall short
You'll never see us fall behind

Rollin' in the booth
Funk pack
This shit dense as hell
Wrote a letter to the lord
Shit must of been addressed to hell
Cus' I got some scheming opps
Lonely as hell cus' they can't pay they bails
All they dudes in for 5k bonds
You gotta raise them sales



Credits
Writer(s): Carter Kline
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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