analysts E

Lose. L-l- You loser. Hoes on my dick, hoes my dick. Hoes on my dick 'cause I look like Peter Griffin. Got the whole lot thinking, "Hell nah, he innocent." Seventh grade, I just broke a shit addiction. Run up on a nigga and he running straight Rich, Uh, uh. Gloss up in the party, Pop a bean, straight glitching. In the party off the loud, nigga straight glitching. And shout out to my bitch too. Run up in the party, boy, yeah, you getting Bitched too. Pull up in this bitch, yeah, Wifey with my pistol. I don't give a fuck, bitch. Hell nah, I won't miss you. Huh, shout out Hannah Bitch, help me blow my Neck up. In the trap with some drugs, Smoking cannabis. Niggas watching me, Man, they sweating and they lit. Snakes in the grass, you can hear 'em rattling. This bitch is shaking, nice the way it move Like it's got a lid. Forget about the streets, Boy, you can't handle it. Static at the front door, this nigga less than. I'ma smack this nigga 'cause he on lessons. Pull up flying, don't make fun of death.