Question: tell me how you feel about me
I write my own lyrics and I make my own beats
I got my own tricks and I do my own stunts
Can't name another bitch that could do it so cunt
I'm always so blunt, so you cannot take
Fuckin' with Michete? that's a big mistake
Cause it's verbal armaggedon when I get up on a track
I'm bout to leave 'em in their feelings and I'm never holdin' back
Fuck what you heard, cause I'm here to state facts
See 'em gettin' mad cause I got what they lack
Yeah I'm talkin' bout bars, I got 'em for days
Happy Meal shit, got me lookin' gourmet
I'm an Ivy League bitch, now you lookin' fourth grade
Cause I'm colder than a double rainbow sorbet
Could I be more gay? yaaaas!
Everybody in the club say yaaaas!
All the bitches gather round like yaaaas!
Got your girlfriend screaming out yaaaas!
Uh, these bitches live for me
'Chete gettin' to the fame and the infamy
And so these down-low faggots wanna get with me
But I would never let a fuckboy sit with me
Nope, been bad since Haddaway
And I'm known to get buck like Tampa Bay
Always hit my mark, no Antonay
Stay smokin' motherfuckers like a pack a day
But you ain't getting no accolades
Cause your brain more hollow than a bag of Lay's
So I end a weak bitch like Saturday
And then I kick back and watch anime
When I spit my verse
I pile up the bodies, leave 'em in my hearse
I don't play nice, I go the fuck off
I let my haters know they can really fuck off
I never tell a lie, everything I say is true
I'm a real bitch, can't say the same about you
Now, see you on your fuckboy shit
Fuckboy smile on your fuckboy lips
Fuckboy style and your fuckboy kicks
In a fuckboy pile with your fuckboy clique
Fuckboy
Damn right, you ain't nothin but fuckboy
Always sit at home playin with your fucktoys
Turn down, I ain't tryin' to hear that fuck noise
Cause I really don't give a fuck, fuckboy