Beezy Style II

Come here
I sip Codeine, not no beer
I don't fuck with all my peers
Had to cut em off like shears
Make it rain, ain't talking deer
Chop' so loud, you cannot hear
I'm still better, that's so clear
On my dick, you niggas queer
I don't like that girl no more, that's why I do not let her near
BZY! never lacking, this my buzz and this is my lightyear
If I hop up in the Wraith, you know I might just crash the rear
If you bring your friend, that's 3, and I ain't talking Musketeers
Hyp-Hypnotic type shit
Cha-Chaotic type shit
She-She do the same movement
Ro-Robotic type shit
Mike Ty, I bite shit
We flip like light switch
Oh, that's a dyke bitch
I know I'm right, shit
Ever since she left felt like I'll never get the right bitch
I got diamonds, AP's flooded cover cuts on my wrist
I got hoes on hoes on hoes like I'm Santa with a list
I got yo bitch bending back, I got yo bitch, blow a kiss (Yeah, yeah)

Brodie make the trap jump like Wubbzy
I'm like wow wow
We getting chicken
Making chicken call me general tso
You get X'd out
No Simon Cowell
Tic Tac Toe I get the O's
And you get X'd out
It's like I'ma fashion guru
All of them want Beezy style
She check my spotify
And she see that Beezy viral
She see my numbers
See my image
I got hunnids
I want millions
Sound like thunder when I'm in it
I'ma shock her like I'm Miles Morales
Ay, I'ma save my city
I don't need no pity
She really like my fitty
You capping boy you fitted
I rock bandanas stand on business
I make these records feel like Guinness
I stay with green heads like I'm Phineas
Chris Rock, get slapped
Chrisean Rock, get Blueface
Don't know how to act
Broke hoe get back
Broke hoe get back
I'm staying with my slime
Slatt slatt slatt slatt



Credits
Writer(s): G Buchanan, Jourdan Brothern
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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