Betty Crocker//Deep Inhale

I'm on my what? I'm on my what? I'm on my what? I'm on my what? I'm on my what? I'm on my what?
Ayy, stuck in this kitchen cookin' up, I'm on my betty crocker shit
They steady talkin' all that shit, but I ain't takin' no offense
I'm tryna go out to the mall, and just make dummy purchases

I'm tryna put that boy to sleep, you know we finna tuckem' in
He think he made for this shit, but ain't no fake in this shit
If we gon' see you round that block, just know we takin' your shit
Them cops can't catch us, not at all, you know we framin' his shit

Don't need no drink to get lit, I'll grab a mic and thats it
We steady cookin' in this crib, like this the trap in this bitch
Like there's a mouse in this bitch, we gonna give that boy a cut
Okay, we linin' that bitch, I guess that snitch got a stitch

I won't remember when I'm rich, I need that money
Like it's fuckin' Benadryl, it's the cure to this itch
Got no heart, call me Tony, I keep a iron like I'm Stark
He got a muzzle on his face, that boy can't even fuckin' bark

Think he a dog in this bitch, so we gon' take him to the park
We catch him lackin' at the light, cause it's on sight in this bitch
Yeah, it's on sight, at the light, yeah, it's on sight
At the light, yeah, it's on sight

You like my girl when we fuckin' gettin' cuffed
Your time is up, you out of luck
You out of luck, you out of luck
You out of luck, you out of luck

You out of luck, you out of luck
You out of luck, you out of luck
I ain't tryna get mad but oh my mind been actin' up
So if see you in the dark, just know we lightin' this bitch up

Okay, we lightin' this bitch up
Okay, we lightin' this bitch up
Okay, we

I coulda got him
I coulda got him
I coulda got him
I coulda got him, yeah

I coulda got him, yeah
I coulda got him, bro
I coulda got him, bro
I coulda

Can't believe he thought we'd let him slide
We coulda killed that boy twenty times
But I was thinkin' he ain't worth the dimes
And I was thinkin' he ain't worth the time
In the slammer
Got that boy goin' all around
With a full clip in the hammer
Ain't no payment
Them man just doin' me a favor, huh

Ain't no ransom on your head
We just got heads and want you dead
Because of everything she said
And cause of everything you did
And I ain't talkin' bout no bloods
But you got the gang seeing red
We put that chrome to your dome
We got the mob on your head
At least we coulda had it done
'Cause it was one call away
I call and don't know what to say
I'm tryna envision a play
I got my bro on the line
He sayin' anything is fine
Maybe just give a bit of time
So I chose peace
But ain't no peace
I want him dead
Layin' deceased
I need you deep in hell
Don't rest in peace
I take a deep inhale
You hear my piece
Y'all hear my piece

Oh I could kill that bitch
And his treesh
I'm actin out of line
I need a leash
Woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah



Credits
Writer(s): Peter Amantea
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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