Lyrics

Can't lift my wrist up, you sleeping so you missed us
End up in a motherfucking ditch, if you dissed us
Star on the block, and your bitch on my cock
Aye she cuckoo for that coco she begging for the rock
Tick, tock, tick, tock, Star got your bitch locked
Bagging up the slabs in a motherfucking ziploc
You trash, so your shit flopped, begging for the drip, drop
You cumming in a thick sock, your bitch tryna flip-flop
Open up the safe, got it looking like a salad
Wallet looking thick, like DJ Khaled
When your girl see me, yeah she saying that we pals
I be banging it out, heavy, while you writing your vows
10 Bands, 20 bands, 30 bands, more
You probably at the fucking spot, watching anal vore
Total destruction, down to the core
Yeah, I fucked your sister, your girl was a bore

Ferrari, Maserati, call that shit a Massati
A band ain't shit, bitch I'm rich like Roddy
Making hits like Nas, B
Your girl on me
Smoking on palm trees, I am a palm tree
Nothing's wrong, G, you're just not me
You wanna hop on my song? We the Fuccbois on Lockdown
You just some fucking clowns
We finna take you down
We finna stand our ground
Not bowling but we gonna knock you down like pins
We win, yo bitch smoking on a Slim Jim
Yo bitch smoking on a Slim Jim
Kill you then I dump you with the other bodies in the bin
Swiping my card, I'ma need a fucking PIN
I'm writing with a pen
This verse has come to an end

Lyrics continue below...

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Fuccbois in the building, right in your face
Actually, we at home, bitch, we gotta stay
Don't fucking come for me, I'll fucking come for you
I'll take all your money, and all your bitches too
And there's nothing you can do about it, 'cuz I'm up top
I'm living like a king, while you at the bottom, a rock
And I feel so sad for you, I really do
I have all this money, and you have nothing, fool, aye
Look at me, shining, look at me, blinding
Got a sick-ass outfit, go ahead and match it
No the fuck you can't, 'cuz I'm on my own level
This is King Shit, Turt shit, gotta be careful
You can't fucking break it, you can't fucking fake it
I can see through that shit, you won't fucking make it
I gotta look out for people just like you, bitch
Protect my fucking shit, or you going in the ground, fool

Writer(s): William Hunter

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