[ Featuring YMOUS ]
I was sent by the gods to make bad decisions
Had to add hella numbers like a mathematician
Didn't smoke, I'm still actin' different
She thought I was makin' music, bitch, I'm in the motherf*ckin' kitchen
Cookin' up stir-fry
Watch me whip my motherf*ckin' wrist and
Make a bag disappear, am I a bad spender or a mad magician
Is there a difference
I cap in all my raps about abundance of bitches
New f*ckin' britches
I leave a motherf*ckin' hitlist wishing
I keep in all the glitches
Nah, shit
That's all I'm sayin
Somehow all these broke bitches keep playin
Shit, nah
But that's all I'm sayin
Somehow all these dumb bitches keep playin
Lock it up
I'm talkin' hush
All big business got my bag lookin' obvious
Stop tryin' to talk when I'm talkin, tryin' to mock it up
Tryin' to mock me, but you copy when we polish it
Ponder what we do in the dark, you chompin' at the bit, it's not hot
What the f*ck you tryin' to accomplish? It can't be this
If this is aiming, then you bout to miss
All green stones, you can call a bitch asparagus
Nah, shit, try to copy this bitch
Nah, shit, hey, but
Nah, shit, that's crazy
Somehow all these dumb bitches tryin' to play me
Ay, Shit
And that's all I'm sayin
Somehow all these dumb
Ay
I swerve in and out of these lanes that they put me in
I never pissed in the pot that they tried to cook me in
I got put out in the streets and a genius took me in
She taught me all I knew about the shit that I've been talkin' bout
I watched over the studies of masters while they were studyin
Picked the pieces and put them together till the picture
Painted itself and I ain't that shit up, quality Michelin
So I don't let these bitches in
Cause if I do, these bitches win
Nah, shit, that's all I'm sayin
Somehow all these broke bitches keep playin
Shit, bitch, that's all I'm sayin
Somehow all these dumb bitches keep
Gold medalists won't settle for lesser than everything
Cold hearted, I'm so sorry for all of my blues
Block hopping payin' all of my dues
Window shoppin' on me lookin' for clues
Big bags full of blues
Skip the line at six flags, six mags for you goons
I show up, I'm so up
My fit matchin' my shoes
Pulled up and I got nothin' to lose
Got a brand new burner, a new number
My texts comin' in twos
Nah, shit, that's crazy
And somehow these dumb bitches try play me, bitch
Ay, stop playin' with me
Somehow these dumb bitches keep
They pull out the zip like, what's your asking price
You a goat, but a goat to a god as a sacrifice
Stop playin' wit me
Bitch
Stop playin' wit me
