faceoff

[Intro: PRCY® & Comethazine]
Bands
Yeah, yeah
Acting tough on the internet, watch your mouth
I came up from nothing but a little bit of doubt
Stop being so stingy, there's plenty love to go around

[Verse 1: PRCY®]
Wanna fuck with my ice on, with my lights off
Man, these niggas so dirty, spray them with Lysol
My diamonds clashing with each other, it's a faceoff
That nigga stepping out the house with fake Ray Charles
All the niggas sleeping on me need to wake up
Self-made niggas, we ain't need nobody to save us
Oh, yeah, they showing fake love
My head is so fucked up, I think I need a shape-up

[Verse 2: Touchedmars]
These niggas need a shape up
Hit them with the razor
These niggas so fake, uh
Kinda like they Faze Rug
They ain't got no shame, uh
What I got in the back, better watch out 'cause it'll change you
Now they say that I'm next up
I thank God that I'm blessed up
I thank God for these checks, uh
I don't need a blue check, uh
I just need them blue checks, uh
I just need my respect, huh
I don't care what he said, huh
As long as it's 'bout paper, I'm all ears
Where that bread, huh?
Where that bread?
Move out the way, I need my legroom, huh
Say it with your chest
I make more money laying in my bed, uh huh
This shit too easy, I did this verse in 30 seconds
Oh, oh, oh

[Interlude]
One more time, huh, let it go one more time, huh

[Verse 3: PRCY®]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ringing up my phone, I don't even wanna talk to you
I ain't even gonna cap, everything is cool
She gonna let me dive into that pussy, panties loose
I can't even lie, man, I'm living kinda comfortable
If you wasn't such a bitch, I wouldn't diss you
Make these hoes cry, give them a tissue
I make music when I want, that's beneficial
Man, and these pants, they Official

[Verse 4: Touchedmars]
If you got a issue
Better take it up with god cause I ain't missing
Nigga, just listen
The way that I flow on these beats, I'm not like these lil' niggas
I live in the kitchen
The way that I'm cooking it up, it's like I got a apron on
Man what is he sayin, huh?
Do I gotta say it again?
These niggas is fake, oh man
Man, you couldn't touch these bands
If I held it out to you with my own hands
You never had a chance
He just listen to his mans
They all yes-men, it's not a single soul in there that could understand
The shit that go into it
Man, I'm talking literally
I don't even think 'bout what I'm bout to say
I hop on the mic and I get an epiphany
It's bigger than talent
I swear this music shit just live in me
Fuck being humble, nigga, when you this fire
It ain't really shit you can say about it, nigga

[Outro: PRCY® & Touchedmars]
Yeah
Yeah (I put Regii on this bitch)
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Woah, woah, woah, woah, yeah