Grape Backwoods

[Intro: KOTO?]
Damn what the fuck is this bro?

[Verse: ConQuest, KOTO?]
–updated
Niggas updated
Strop tryna be a shooter
I make money, [?] computer
White Air Forces, then you gotta let the pack go
I’m in love with myself, yeah bitch I’m an asshole
Rent free bitches ain’t the motive
My girl make money scamming damn near a whole [?]
My phone Japanese and I shop in Italian
French for the Euros, I’m holding in the package
Off the top of the toupee
My posture like a mobster who move cane
I’m talking about Screwface
We know you don’t do things
You talk about
[?]
I got a lot
Talking shit? We popping out
Apocalypse on the symbal that’s often chopping down
I hit my target, I’m taking shots in the dark somehow
And if he talking, we off him, no we ain’t talking now
Now we ain’t *tsk* nigga
I like boujee black women no exception
The whole team gotta eat, you heard me no correction
We get corrective. And if your country ain’t like ours
This trip to your house could be, uh, quite expensive
Collective eyes, the mutual thoughts
Harder diamond and the boys all the same kind
My love language money
And I speak it all the damn time
Bitch I speak hundreds, Benjamin Franklins
Uh, shawty wanna give me love, I don’t need that
Weird to me, all I need to see is them leafy green racks
Quarter P, I’ma show these demons and I’ma rehash
Might burn a P on my solo-dolo, then I’ma lean back
Motherfucker I be slumped
Bag on her face, all I need to see is that trunk
My pride of [?] should be proud of me and my junk
I’ma slave for a couple days, then I cut

[Outro]
Chopper that be coming when I’m wilding
I don’t give a fuck about these niggas
Got the duffel, and this iron
Toughed in it, fuckin’ with us