(Ay, ay)
That boy is afraid, he startin' to cry
But he got a wish, and he wantin' to die
I send him to heaven, he startin' to fly (Ay, ay)
I go to his funeral with a suit and a tie (Ay, ay)
Nah, I'm just kiddin' 'bout that
I'm makin' this music and makin' them racks
I talk to his shawty, I hit from the back (Ay, ay)
And he is a nerd, so I fold him like a Mac (Ay, yuh)
Whip out the stick and I drive (Eugh)
You talkin' that shit on that live (Yuh, yuh)
That pussy gon' fold, his girl that I hold, he standin' real still like a gnome
I aim at his dome, I'm callin' her phone
That pussy gon' flake, he fake, you know that he stayin' at home
You better watch yo' tone
'Cause you talk a lot but you never show
Up, now I pour it in my cup
I'm swinging these fists, yet you never duck
I whip out the mac, and you're out of that luck (Ay, ay)
I'm keepin' a Glock and I'm keepin' it tucked (Ay, ay, yuh)
Switchin' my flow, but I'll never be late
I talk to yo' shawty, we go on a date
I take her to my crib, and we startin' to mate
She call me her hero, but I don't have a cape
Talk to yo' shawty, but she not my type
You pull up with guns, and you say that you fight
I'll send you to heaven, you're seein' the light
I'm stayin' real sober, y'all high as a kite
I whip out my Glock, I don't even care
Y'all pussies depressed, like "Life isn't fair!"
"His voice is so squeaky, I can't even bear!" (Ay, ay)
Then I'll take yo' shawty, then we is a pair
I got me a shawty, that shawty is bad
So I talk to her fam, I might hit from the back (Yuh, yuh)
They wantin' my flow, and they wantin' my stacks (Yuh, yuh)
Start from the bottom, and you still sellin' crack
Talk to yo' shawty, I had to relay
Came to her crib and she want me to stay
They ask for a feature, I want them to pay
Aim at yo' dome and I got a ray
Gun, and I'm havin' some fun
Aim at yo' head and you're trying to run
He think that he good? He 'bouta be done
He throwin' them fists, he gotta be dumb
I don't really care, I'll set you aside
Talk to yo' shawty, you gotta say bye
His fam in the dirt, and he startin' to cry
And I gotta be honest, like why would I lie?
He wanted the fist, so I gave him a taste
He wanting that smoke, so that blunt will be laced
Talk to yo' shawty, I nut on her face
And I'm slowin' down and keepin' my pace
Talkin' that shit, and you think that I'm phased?
All these rappers just copy and paste
I'm hitting these shots on her face and I'm feelin' like FaZe
(Yeah, okay)