DIRTY! - OFFLINE

I'm in the backroom
Bagging up like I don't give a fuck
Gotta move the rest—
—ams so I could get the truck
What up with it, buddy?
Sad

Uh, dirty (Dirty)
Money, I'ma make you look dirty
Poke it out
Funny how the world caught up with me (Yeah)
Heard them pigs in New York don't fuck with me
Sheeple (Sheeple)
Keep it transparent, y'all see-through
Help me out
Mama used to bump Luther, no Beatles
McNabb tired of getting soup from the Eagles
Karma
In L.A. with that blicky playing Contra
Nasty
You can meet the fist like Arthur (Uh)
Love screwin' with the cops, I'm Lana
Two SIGs, Big Pun and Fat Joe, they twins
Pull it out, get them mumbling like Sims
And I don't need twenty niggas tweakin' synths, dirty

Get low
Huh, get low
(Uh, uh, fuck)
Better have ten, not nine, nigga, we—

Dawg, look at these niggas
Grind my teeth, how they spit so much filler? (For real)
Wannabes used to wanna be wiggas
Same wannabes wanna be killers, mmm-mmm
Weak-ass rhymes (Weak), weak-ass lines (Weak)
Same old synths, them weak-ass slides (Facts)
Fresh carpool, this lane all mine (Uh)
Already lapped, can't nobody get by
Who you gon' call when the trends all die? (Me)
Niggas follow, I been walkin' my path the whole time (Yeah)
Shit hurts worse when you deep in the grind
Out on bail like Pac in the prime
Style so slutty, even you gotta try it (What else?)
My shit jam big drum on the .9 (What else?)
When you spit subs, give me your own time
And you can't get it back, niggas know I ain't lyin'

Huh
Huh