Laced

[Chorus: Diizii]
Buh (Bitch!), boom (Huh, yeah)
Bae, the burner on the side every time I’m tryna come and go hit it (Yeah, yeah-yeah!)
Uh, real niggas cry sometimes, but, baby, I’m back in a minute (Woo!)
Tuh, damn, he gone, he won’t be back next week ‘til his funeral (Damn, he gone)
Tuh, damn, he gone, his death date tatted on them in roman numerals (Rrr)
Know what that mean, bitch?
When you die (Woah), uh, get turned to a tattoo (Tattoo)

[Verse: Diizii]
Ink ‘em out, put it in yo’ skin, nigga
Yeah, and I’ll knock off yo’ cap, too (Tattoo, tattoo, tattoo)
I’m smokin’ on real Runtz (Woah), whatever you smokin’ is laced, bitch (Phew)
Tryna get me to hit that shit, get it the fuck out my face, bitch (Ch, ch-ch-ch)
I’m slidin’ with Bunny
The crackheads snortin’ that shit ‘til they nose all runny (Yeah, crackhead)
Bitch, I’m laughin’ all the way to the bank
And they askin’ me, “what the fuck is so funny?” (Tuh, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Don’t mind me, bitch, I’m fried, like, why the fuck you be gettin’ offended? (Why the fuck?)
Gotta let it go, he gone
Ain’t no need for the muh’fuckin’ tension (Damn, he gone)
You sittin’ down? I’m talkin’ bitch (Woah)
So stand up and pay attention (Get up)
Get my back, I’m a wetback– eh, wait (Woah)
Hol’ on, what you say? (Huh? What?)
Well, I’m a wetback, get my get back (Okay)
A nigga really be jumpin’ fences (Yeah, talkin’ ‘bout)
Shut the fuck up, what you talkin’ ‘bout? (Talkin’ ‘bout)
Huh, hole in the leg, he gon’ walk it out? (Talkin’ ‘bout)
The shit that you smokin’ is laced (Talkin’ ‘bout)
Why these niggas tryna hate? (Talkin’ ‘bout)
Ooh, they done fell for the bait (Woah)
Nah, you cannot change your fate (Woah)
Yeah, can these hoes tell me why they playin’ with they nose? (Woah, woah, nose)
Yeah, your bitch get ran on a train ‘cause she really chose (Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no)
But it’s not me that’s fuckin’ her (Yeah)
Hell nah, I ain’t fuckin’ her (Fuckin’ her)
Hell nah, make fun of her (Fun of her)
‘Cause I really be crackin’ mine (Fuckin’ her)
I really be crackin’ my bitch (Yeah)
All these niggas just type shit (Crackin’ it)
I’m off blue dream, type shit (Crackin’ it)
If you got the motion, then run it up (Crackin’ it, crackin’ it, crackin’ it)
Glock with the tits, shoot a hunnid up (Ah-ha-ha)
I been the– what? Uh-uh

[Interlude: Diizii]
Fuck y’all, I’m done (Bam, bam-bam, bam-bam, bam)
Ah-ha, started mumblin’ and shit (Buh), ha (Buh-buh-buh)
Damn, nigga (Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh)
(Ha-ha-ha-ha, buh-buh-buh-buh)
(Phew, ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-f-ah-ah, damn)

[Chorus: Diizii]
Buh (Bitch!), boom (Huh, yeah)
Bae, the burner on the side every time I’m tryna come and go hit it (Yeah, yeah-yeah!)
Uh, real niggas cry sometimes, but, baby, I’m back in a minute (Woo!)
Tuh, damn, he gone, he won’t be back next week ‘til his funeral (Damn, he gone)
Tuh, damn, he gone, his death date tatted on them in roman numerals (Rrr)
Know what that mean, bitch?
When you die (Woah), uh, get turned to a tattoo (Tattoo)