AOT

N-N-Nine-milli' burst
Black mink fur, pockets fat, so absurd
Bitch, I'm 'bout checks, I can't beef with you nerds
Blastoise, she wet, cowabunga when I surf
Hold up, what he said?

Not a word (Uh, uh)
Pussy boy, get back, back, back, you get hurt
Pull up with that gat, toe-tag then disperse
Leave his body flat-face plant, hit the dirt
Finger-fuck my strap when I'm mad, make it squirt (Yeah)

Uh, walked up in his shit, swiping like a Visa
AOT in this bitch, walls like I'm Grisha
Change your mien, now sit down, boy keep your tee tucked
Pulling up with sticks clenched, make him pray to Jesus

Air it out, let it breathe
Glock splitting heads, feel like God, parting seas
Ricks on feet with his neck underneath
Five-foot-six, still I'm up, okay, capeesh

Uh, peel his cap like Pez if he talk that mess
It's a wrap like casts, uh
Tell my bullets, "Fetch," when the pistol vent
Better watch your back, uh
That little bitch on X, sliding down my wood
Leaking like some sap, uh
Switchblade leave your flesh bleeding, PMS with your soul detached

Nine-milli' burst
Black mink fur, pockets fat, so absurd
Bitch, I'm 'bout checks, I can't beef with you nerds
Blastoise, she wet, cowabunga when I surf
Hold up, what he said?

Not a word (Uh, uh)
Pussy boy, get back, back, back, you get hurt
Pull up with that gat, toe-tag then disperse
Leave his body flat-face plant, hit the dirt
Finger-fuck my strap when I'm mad, make it squirt



Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan Robert Whitmer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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