Know yo pack is fraud, look at that sh#t under lights. (Yuh)
Put a hole inside your grandma, all ya’ll think I’m the type
Think I’m cancelled all on f#cking twitter cause I’m smacking all these dykes
I got that Westwood style on my wrist, and on my f#ckin’ mic
I got a big bag, I don’t let my pants sag, I already clipped that fag with a big mag-mag
Flag reppin’ big red, scum gang drop dead-dead
Need a new cap for your face you inbred
Disrespect your fam with my new tool, turn the scene to a motherf#cking cesspool
No disrespect on me that’s the first rule
Had them b#tches running one hundred meters
I can’t f#ck with these b#tches they eaters, cheaters, schemers, ending all your dreamers
Go-go-go to the pond and I’m seeing my duck
That lil boy, keeps it tuck
Then we riding in that truck, down to 63rd, t-test my luck
Ima, Ke-ke-ke-keep it buck
Saw a shawty with a dump truck-truck
Smell some fish, and went yuck
Saw that man Chuck and had him struck
He’s a little boy was a shmuck, you have just been thunderstruck
I got that 20mm, it’s a backhand, it’s in my van on me
Pole bring it back, pink on the mag, who gonna stop me?
Who gonna stop me, who gonna stop me, who gonna stop me?
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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