RIP ED GALE / JEFFREY DAHMER - 7_30_24, 8.34 PM

[Intro]
Huh, GFA
Hm, hm
GFA (What are you talking about, Swifty?)
Playboy, PB
(Oh my God, it's Him) Hm

[Chorus]
Pop a gray, it releases all the tension
Pop an Adderall, I pay attention
Don't tag me in photos, no, we cannot mention
I'm slicing it up, disappear, CoryxKenshin
I wake up, count money, this paper my breakfast
Rick Owens hoodie, the Klan, I'ma lynch him
I'm really a member, there ain't no pretending
Best believe you get DP'd if you be pretending
Huh, count up paper, I'm counting it up
We don't smoke on boof, yeah, we smoking on Runtz
We movin' the pounds and we movin' the tons, huh
I'm head honcho, I'm sippin' on codeine, I can't catch a cold
When I tote on that Drac' and I get in that mode
I rock all black and I feel like I'm Lone, hm

[Verse]
If looks could kill, I'd be like Jeffrey Dahmer
Walk to the stand and I be like, "Your honor"
I'm in your moms' DMs then hit on her daughter
I'm not her deadbeat but I don't know the father
And I swear that they think that I'm trippin'
Blue VVs on me so they think that I'm crippin'
I'm with the mafia tryna catch victims
I feel like Green Goblin, the number one villain
We tote chops like karate
He think that he's hard but he ain't catch a body, hm
And I'm big Illuminati
Piss on the beat so they think I need potty
Cobra Kai with the blick, feel like Mr. Miyagi
Thousand bands on me, I feel like I'm Fauni
Might hit on yo' shawty
Chop make him dance, do the cha-cha
Chop make him, (flrrd), do bachata
I got my shottas, they rollin' ganja
Got dreads like they Sosa, you know they Rastas
Your shorty be callin' me papa
Beat her with the stick like I treat a piñata, huh
Turn up, I feel like Timmy Turner
I got that chop', yeah, I keep me a burner
She's some' like a doctor, she think I'ma nurse her
She said that I'm toxic, I don't wanna hurt her

[Bridge]
Huh, spin the block and we killin' them boys
Speaking rough so I'm losing my voice
Spin the block in the new Rolls-Royce, like
Like I don't care what we in, I'm tryna dump
I got red ties on the .45 like I'm Trump (What are you talkin' about, Swifty?)
This choppa autistic, don't run, Forrest Gump (Oh my God, it's Him)
I pour me an eight inside Ohana Punch

[Chorus]
Pop a gray, it releases all the tension
Pop an Adderall, I pay attention
Don't tag me in photos, no, we cannot mention
I'm slicing it up, disappear, CoryxKenshin
I wake up, count money, this paper my breakfast
Rick Owens hoodie, the Klan, I'ma lynch him
I'm really a member, there ain't no pretending
Best believe you get DP'd if you be pretending