O.D. Freestyle
Big fucking bag on me like its a robbery bitch I'm going to fill it with cash
Y'all on some dollar tree give no apologies bitches get fucked and I dash
I'm like astronomy I'm shooting stars like they darts aim at hearts and I laugh
I feel like Bobby this beat getting shmurdered thats word to my homies that's past
She giving brain like a scholar ain't rent the Impala I purchased with cash
I'm on my death row like Shug I'm a baller put hits on what's fake and I crash
Don't want no smoke cause the shit I got stored in the jars smell too strong that's the Stash
Break up the dutch add the fonto and right before I burn it I crush up the hash
These niggas gave me a type beat I had to get hype on this shit on my Nash
Steve in the cut with the rock got the piff in socks milly rock with the splash
I'm going dumb on percussion this shit a concussion I'm cut up the gash
I'm bleeding out like I'm dying what you lie about and real life tend to clash
I do this shit for the misfits turn this shit up loud for the ones in the back
They trying to call me a minority report you snitches get fucked up real fast
But I ain't talking bout writing reports to the opps bitch I said you get slashed
Pull out your eyelids my iris on virus I infect this shit with my brash
Knuckle headed bumping knuckles with those in the scuffle I'm truffle on bass
I pull the tux from the rubble you rappers in trouble when I'm next to bat
Who's on first and what's on second my wreckage give leverage for me to just smash
Every beat that's given to me you bet it get ugly bitch I'm Quasimodo turn gypsies to ash
Money on money on money I double up numbers with raps
Turn my shawty into Chun-Li the way that she fuck up the racks and cut up the packs
Add the filter to the mixing that cut out the hissing kill snakes in the grass
If you think it's you I'm dissing then maybe you need to go harder on tracks I'm buzzing on slaps
And I can't believe that we made it here
One for the books when I cook I ain't playing fair
I'm from the crooks not the brooks let me make it clear
I'm bout to cap off a crazy year
With a freestyle that's O.D.
I'm coming low-key to fuck up the game bitches take a chair
I'm going O.D
I'm coming low-key
To fuck up this game better take a chair
Y'all on some dollar tree give no apologies bitches get fucked and I dash
I'm like astronomy I'm shooting stars like they darts aim at hearts and I laugh
I feel like Bobby this beat getting shmurdered thats word to my homies that's past
She giving brain like a scholar ain't rent the Impala I purchased with cash
I'm on my death row like Shug I'm a baller put hits on what's fake and I crash
Don't want no smoke cause the shit I got stored in the jars smell too strong that's the Stash
Break up the dutch add the fonto and right before I burn it I crush up the hash
These niggas gave me a type beat I had to get hype on this shit on my Nash
Steve in the cut with the rock got the piff in socks milly rock with the splash
I'm going dumb on percussion this shit a concussion I'm cut up the gash
I'm bleeding out like I'm dying what you lie about and real life tend to clash
I do this shit for the misfits turn this shit up loud for the ones in the back
They trying to call me a minority report you snitches get fucked up real fast
But I ain't talking bout writing reports to the opps bitch I said you get slashed
Pull out your eyelids my iris on virus I infect this shit with my brash
Knuckle headed bumping knuckles with those in the scuffle I'm truffle on bass
I pull the tux from the rubble you rappers in trouble when I'm next to bat
Who's on first and what's on second my wreckage give leverage for me to just smash
Every beat that's given to me you bet it get ugly bitch I'm Quasimodo turn gypsies to ash
Money on money on money I double up numbers with raps
Turn my shawty into Chun-Li the way that she fuck up the racks and cut up the packs
Add the filter to the mixing that cut out the hissing kill snakes in the grass
If you think it's you I'm dissing then maybe you need to go harder on tracks I'm buzzing on slaps
And I can't believe that we made it here
One for the books when I cook I ain't playing fair
I'm from the crooks not the brooks let me make it clear
I'm bout to cap off a crazy year
With a freestyle that's O.D.
I'm coming low-key to fuck up the game bitches take a chair
I'm going O.D
I'm coming low-key
To fuck up this game better take a chair
Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan Kunstadt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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