Like Yac (Key Glock Remix)

[Intro]
I weren't gonna do it, that's money, ha

[Verse]
Ain't sending no disses this shit competition
And honestly these niggas ain't even worth dissing
I only did it 'cause rap made me do it
I only did it 'cause you niggas didn't
Niggas be scared to jump up in that water
I'm finna dive in head first like I'm swimming
I got that biscuit, it got some in it
I feel like Fred Durst, yeah that's how I be limpin'
Ain't really wit' all this lyrical shit, but I am gettin' tired of hearin' this shit
'Bout the pills that you popped, 'bout the bitches you hit
'Bout all the fake shit that you got away with (Niggas is trash)
Words what I got a way with, so you gotta take notes
Read through like scopes, aim hit
No sticks, no stones, and I'm not gon' take bricks
No, no, can't miss like I got ten kids
I hear a whole nothin'
A whole lotta robbin', a whole lotta muggin'
A whole lotta mobbin', a whole lotta thuggin'
We just need somebody be real 'bout the subject (For real)
Fuck if you lovin' it, Cordae ain't cuttin' it
I give a fuck how you feel 'bout the government
Brothers and sisters and all of this other shit
If I catch lil' Cordae cord, I'm unpluggin' it
Uh, plugging it
Shut up lil' bitch, put a plug in it (Shut the fuck up)
Niggas rap like we in history class, if you niggas teaching I ain't even studying
Boy I'm a drop out, I'm 'bout all of the shit that you not 'bout
Plus I rap better than niggas who hot now
I take your whole top five out
Kill 'em in front of you like, "Who is your God now?"
It's somethin' 'bout you niggas I don't like to listen
Talk 'bout your problems, you poverty stricken
I don't like sob stories, I don't like bitchin'
So, I don't like Logic, like these bitches
They be like women with they nail technicians
How all these lil' niggas just gossip?
Niggas be all they in they feelings, I call these lil' niggas Hopsins
Two guns, big titties, call 'em Tomb Raider
If I'm anything, know it's not gon' be a hater
I do the dash, yeah, hasta luego
I'm on the grind watch me shred like some paper
Boy you a get torn apart like some paper
You get the front page and yo' fam' read it later
Clip get stuffed like a Garcia y Vega
40 like liquor, this shit fuck yo' day up
I'm keeping that pole, boy if you reach then yo' finger gone roll like a lay-up
We gon' get it on tape when we get this nigga taped
Get bussed on, fucked on cam like Dreya (Fuck)
Fuck nigga askin' me how to get his plays up
I can not help you, I ain't no caretaker
But I can tell you the truth if you take it
Yo' shit trash, Tyler, The Creator (That shit trash)
We don't want hear that shit, not now, not later
Lil' nigga just keep it, just save it
Niggas out here winning Grammys for bullshit playlists and I'm still just being patient
Waiting, for the moment of taking
My time or yo' life, you know which one I'm taking
You got a bone to pick, but the shit breaking