Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh
Kyllum huh
Matter fact b#tch I’m the villain
We put a shot through his head and we drill him
Bullets they enter his body they fill him
Percocet 30 I’m losing my feelings
She wanna f#ck on me, I’m like really?
Run up a bag, ran it up to a milly
I’m in yo’ b#tch and I f#ckin’ her kidneys
Chop’ finna sing lil’ b#tch like Whitney
Ain’t about it b#tch, you ain’t talkin’ you ain’t ’bout it b#tch
Wanna f#ck I said I’m out of it
He got money it was counterfeit
He broke he a bum, shots with my gun
Click-click-pow make the f#ck boy run
Talkin’ ’bout bread, but you don’t got none
P-pull up in all black just like a nun
Why the f#ck they keep on testin’ me?
Rich as a b#tch, yeah, I’m drinkin’ on Hennessy
She wanna f#ck, I be f#ck, I be hеavenly
She want that good, and she said it was hеavenly
Huh, fall in this b#tch, turnin’ 70
She gave good head, we got that chemistry
Chop up, disease, leave him with flapacy
I’m finna make lil’ b#tch my destiny, huh
He gonna get hit with like 40
Shot to his dome, now his mom she be mourning
Wake up to money, I’m like good morning
Percs on the sleep, he dead, he be snoring
Now I just f#ck on his mom she be h#rn#
Now I just toss her away she be boring
Hop in the hellcat lil’ b#tch it be roaring
She wanna f#ck again I’m just like sorry b#tch
They gon’ say that they was always him
Why you hatin’ you should get a grip
p#ss# talkin’ you gon’ shut yo’ lip
We finna pop that boy just like a zit
I’m so high I’m off the actavis
Say you hard, but you just actin’ b#tch
He wanna talk I’m not having it
So he get filled with the whole f#ckin’ clip
Kyllum, huh
Matter fact b#tch I’m the villain
We put a shot through his head and we drill him
Bullets they enter his body they fill him
Percocet 30 I’m losing my feelings
She wanna f#ck on me, I’m like really?
Run up a bag, ran it up to a milly
I’m in yo’ b#tch and I f#ckin’ her kidneys
Chop’ finna sing lil’ b#tch like Whitney
Ain’t about it b#tch, you ain’t talkin’ you ain’t ’bout it b#tch
Wanna f#ck I said I’m out of it
He got money it was counterfeit
He broke he a bum, shots with my gun
Click-click-pow make the f#ck boy run
Talkin’ ’bout bread, but you don’t got none
P-pull up in all black just like a nun
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
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