49536

[Verse 1: Scales]
Bombs written I get I split it hit it moms chilling
Mothafuckin monster the dogs are often sniffing
These little pawns for prisons living in harmful rhythms
I'm fucking woke.. and I ain't gone with snitching
I'm fucking round with nothing, because y'all harm the mission
Of real scandaling crooks, ain't demand to get booked
Everybody wanna be a street villain with hooks
But y'all don't know the pain of when your freedom is took
But some of y'all do so it's easy to look
At a motherfucker when he really going through pain
Cooking crack, tears falling cause his mamma the stain
Yeah that should've been a metaphor but this is the game
I'm a felon with a record, they be checking my name
That's why no employers calling so I'm selling the caine
Selling some bitch pussy on the fucking back page, back pain Whatcha got? Wanna call that's lame
Text once with directions my bitch coming that way
Vagabond criminal make a fucking gat wave
Bad things on my mind put me in a pad cage
God dang how he kick it so fresh that flav
Fixing to split it and hit it in it with ya whoring auntie
Cook her up a fresh batch like I'm Gordon Ramsey
But I'm really in the cut like I'm Mormon Sandy
I don't who that is either, I don't want a Grammy
Just wanna know your bitches name and let me sniff her panties
I know I'm fucked up in my life that's why I'm moving barely
Ain't no money in my pocket so my food is berries
All the bitches looking at him, why this loser staring
Move em here to the box while we never caring
Shedding tears from the thoughts of a broken marriage
I really squeeze and make it pop with the 40 hammer
Dirty harry in ya stomach, watch me chuckle banter
Big gifts for ya mits call me uncle Santa
I'm a brr pisst POW and reload the ammo
I'm a clip it for the mission while I'm wearing camo
All I wanna do is smoke a blunt and ride a camel
Every day white socks while he wearing in sandals
Ain't no shoe could ever fit me so I'm getting cancelled
Yeah its Crush500 shout out to the vandals
Let me take a little breather just so I can get em

[Verse 2: THREESIXPREMIUM]
Come and fuck with the realest
The illest
The Threesix and 495
You find yourself up on a hit list
Ain't nothing change man
I still grip a tec
Ripping right through ya vest
Tears in ya chest
Leave you breathless
Black boots stepping
Ain't a thing that I'm regretting
Stomp your ribs and break em off
Like you Manson, Marilyn
I'm known to cut to carotids
Nigga don't get arrogant
I'm known to fuck your broad
I'll take your bitch to the Sheraton
If you got a problem
I got ammo to spare
I'll cut you down, your whole crew
Tombs is something you can share with em
I come and make your new gang spot a cemetery
Otherwise I spread your body parts from O-B-T to Maryland
Deep night riding with the beams off
Only light in sight the muzzle flash out the window of the Camry
Deadly accurate
The hammer strikes the primer
Then ignites the fire flying at ya
Leave ya stiff like a mannequin
They always talking tough up on a track
But in reality they lacking all these niggas actin sweet like saccharine
But I ain't one for pandering
I talk a lot of slander
And I'll back it
Turn em into splatter
If they get dramatic
It's the Threesix