JAZZ KLUB

[Verse 1: Kiyarts]
This chuzz is asking what's my name, I plead the fifth
I ain't tryna have relations with no, ugly bitch
I'm at a Jazz Club with the boys, yeah we in the VIP
Grimm is too gone off the bourbon, you can say he took a trip

My fits the cleanest, Bora Bora for the weekend
Cannot comprehend my lyrics, Little Tom on Genius
Deacs, he put a cross up in his name, cause he loves Jesus
I just used the claw on my little bitch, I learned it from the phoenix

Feel like Freddie Gibbs, I whip the dope up with the pot
Blowing O's, yeah Alfredo made breakfast, and its hot
Franz about to put this on his Topster at the top
Dunkin Vinyl's not a death grips fan but you could still get got

Spin the block, go round and round like a fucking vinyl
33 no rpm, but rounds up in the rifle
I fucked little shawty so dang good she feel it in her spinal
Said my little bitch got giant tits but she doesn't have Gyno

I'm never lacking bitch, society's pistol-packing bitch
This bourbon costed 65, the same as Apple's average
We at the Chophouse, eating steaks, I only once imagined it
I fear the day where Apple moves to the same state where Dallas is

[Verse 2: Dunkin Vinyl]
George broke his arm, he needed morphine
More feins at crib, hid the Jim Bean
Don't worry George will inform you in a later beat
Philly can't close fl, not Conway, but a machine

Met him at the Jazz Club
Front how with the Chopped Huzz
Didn't know what he become
Because

Fuck a lame bitch, I'll leave you stranded
I'm a good friend but don't take me for granted
Like Lance, you'll be reprimanded

Verses so strong, write them with my arm and hammer, left handed
Feel like Neil, when he just landed
The Society needs me, hey I'll command it
When we take pictures of Apple they be candid

I assisted others with their raps
They so lost, trecking with Google maps
Ai helps their flow, like a broken bath

You bitches pray your verse be written by Pat
But Fuck that
You all gotta adapt
And carve your own path