OUCH!

[Verse 1]
I'm too hype
I put red on my shortie with a blue stripe
I'm flyer than Aang, I fly two kites
I'm the nigga who puts black on a blue sky
There are 3 F's in life, fussing, fucking, and fighting
I can tell if your lying, I just look in your eyes
I don't understand, what's the problem with life, (matter of fact, what's the problem with dying?)
Instead of attempting to numb the pain, I make it worse
We from 64th and 65th, not 63rd
Messing with my brain, my head is hurting
Feeling the pain, it's extroverted
I spit these bars, put extra work in
Only way you paying bills, is if you working
I like my girls like my oil, extra virgin

[Chorus]
Drop him when wе catch him
Hit him with a racket
Knock out all his brackets
That lil' boy talk too much
Told my last bitch put that shit back, she bought too much
I can't bе around nobody, I'm on the block too much
I can't fuck with these other people, I done said it's been they fault too much, ha