Bar for Bar Pt. 2

[Verse 1: DC2Trill]
I felt the need to hit this shit, but I could've kept it raw
It's ironic that I fucked the ho, I could've used the jaws
Perfect timing how I did this shit, I'm cooling with the stars
It's ironic that he's sipping Wock', he's usually sipping Par
I can count this cash to pass the time 'til tomorrow
I can't put you on and I ain't got shit to let you borrow
I done mixed the Faygo with the Fanta, now it's orange cream
These days, the hoes who wouldn't let me fuck is not ignoring me
All we gotta do is run in his house, nigga, trust me
Shut the fuck up, nigga, close your mouth, that gon' set you free
Clap-on lights, codeine on ice, bitch, I'm living nice
These hoes say my name like Candyman, but don't say it twice (Shh)
Got on my grind, used my tool, now my pockets full
Niggas forgot the code of the game, need to go to school
I'm in the trap one deep tryna make it happen
40K two months, I'm finna stick to rapping

[Verse 2: Lil Yachty]
Shit, half my niggas felons
Will they ever see the other side of the world? Shit, ain't no telling
My publicist white and gay, she look like Ellen
She bring in the biggest bags without even trying
Concrete Boys lay on the racks without even dying
They said no guns at the door, I still got the fire in
She know I'm boss, so without question, she let me in her throat
It's late as hell, she up an X to get in her mode
And she gon' have a foursome, baby, from the weekend
I put meat on her grill even though she vegan
My brother come around every time the weed in
He gon' turn the five to ten, my favorite demon
Yeah, that's just how it go
Niggas woofing all up on the net over little hoes
That's petty shit, I'll never, never get involved
This revolver got me feeling like I'm eight feet tall
Remember slaving at McDonald's, ain't nobody care
At home, looking in the mirror like, "My life ain't fair"
Got the fuck up off my ass and I made shit happen
I got molly same color as a fast food napkin
I had talks with Jay-Z and it's all from rapping
Phone calls with Jay-Z and it's all from rapping
Thirty million plus I made and it's all from rapping
Niggas acting like they make more than me and they all be capping

[Verse 3: DC2Trill]
I know some killers really up and it's all from clapping
Now that they see the creep up, shit, they tryna tap in
Flunky nigga say he finna slide, but it's all cap
I ain't go inside to get the— 'cause it's on my lap
They know we them boys, uh, we know we them boys
Your bitch sucking dick, huh, but she not on my story
We always outside, huh, you in the house like Cory
Late night geeked up off the pills, I'm going scoring
Now let's see what the cash'll do
Steady passing you, pussy nigga, and your last shit news
Not in class with you, you a civilian, we niggas with attitude
I can send Diego with the stick and he get rid of you
Goodfellas, you swimming with the fishes, yeah, that mob business
I'm different, my granny wasn't cooking dinner, she was whipping chickens
448 with the 'Rari like I'm whipping chariot
This bitch got the broke disease and I will never cure it