DON’T BELIEVE IN GOD

[Intro]
(Mathias)

[Verse 1: NOLIVESMATTER]
HAHAHA, boy, you so damn down bad
And you know I'm swiping, I don't care about the price tag
Came all on her stomach then I throw that bitch a cumrag
I'm shooting at his thigh a lot, there's blood all on his durag
Snotty ass, slimy ass fucker with a big dick
Big clip too, if a nigga wanna try shit
Shawty buss it open, then you cuff the broad bit
How the hell you throwing up the blood my niggas bent

[Chorus: NOLIVESMATTER]
How the fuck you don't believe in God when I'm right here?
She gon' neck me when I whip it, I'ma switch gears
How the fuck you don't believe in God when I'm right here?
12-gauge if that nigga wanna step near
How the fuck you don't believe in God when I'm right here?
She gon' neck me when I whip it, I'ma switch gears
How the fuck you don't believe in God when I'm right here?
12-gauge if that nigga wanna step near

[Verse 2: Vythe]
She want ride me cowgirl, tell that bitch she need a ticket
This girl just is not for you need a mission just to take it
I remember niggas said I wasn't gon' be shit
Now I'm in LA, I'm getting top from bitches naked
Heh, fuck it, bitch, I'ma set it off
Ten-five Glock, all these rapper totin' Airsoft
Same bros, I be droppin' top, you leaning just to lip lock
Rob that nigga, make him strip, and then I made a TikTok
Big Tec, yeah I grip it like a redneck
Or a war vet, either or, I'll make his shirt wet
Drippin' in designer, now you bleedin' like some gross egg
Now you on a stretcher gettin' tested by a nurse tech
Yeah, that boy recedin' 'cause you pushed that fuckin' scalp back
AK-33, fuck an opp, built like a snap cap
What's that in yo' wallet, nigga? Run it, let me have that
That's so fuckin' sick, I'm in the booth, I got a hazmat

[Verse 3: Bruhmanegod]
First thing in the morning, smokin' wood (Yeah)
Off to a great start
I can't step outside without the hearts and the rats, don't go
Thousand dollar fit inside the K-Mart
Everybody think they can just rap a life they never livin' through existence
But they lackin', they'll never stay sharp
It's that bullshit I can't get with, you musicians make me sick
You know that sickness you inflictin' 'bout to make me hate art
Go sell a bit on all these hoes (Mathias)
Bitch, you already know star are not five-o
From the flow of the five, you barely even alive
Kinda wish she give me mop, but she do it on the dot
And I guess they can try, but they ain't got no hope
'Cause he look broke broke, and she look broke broke
Think you prolly have some more, but I ain't got time
No steppin' on the floor while I bug grind core (Yeah, yeah)

[Outro: Bruhmanegod]
Alright