Ayy bruh you tryna let me get a sip of that king cobra
Forever the sickest infected d~ck in my britches
I’m tying b~tches to bridges and burn em’ down so sleep with the fishes
I’m vicious when my baby sauce dribbles on your b~tches nipples before i f~cked her silly with a rusty chisel
I’m off the hizzle banging with the born of barren womym and making you hang yourself off the fan in your parents room
I know you love the sound cantankerous underground pound for pound wrapped in a blanket made of alaskan flounder
I’m pacing back and forth waiting for you at the door
Waiting for you to come out so i can pull a gun out
If somе b~tches run out
I’ma have some fun now
If you spеak to me i will pleasantly pull your tongue out
I pull my gun out yeah i’m down to fire shots in broad day
Main street k!ll a b~tch, k!ll a cop
I cop a sack of k!ller bud and fill the bowl and rip it off and also got some angel dust
I trust it make me go ballistic
B~tches in miami tend to cower at the sight of me
Probably cause their boyfriends mad and fantasizing fighting me
You can not fight righteously if only with your fists
I speak with doctrine as if jesus did not exist
He’s dead bloodshed in the back of the tour van
I hit you with the force as if i had four hands
Gore k!ll never silent and discreet
I hammer smash and lacerate your face in the f~cking street
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