WHITE LEAN

[Verse 1: 919SLUM]
Top rope jumpin' like Mysterio, Gold rings
Lookin like a bowl of fucking cheerios, showin'
Off the new black watch lookin like a Swiss bitch
Shots at your dome, basketball, make a swish bitch
Adderall bottles all around leans kitchen
Cutter so thick, leave your skull, dome, missin'
Fourth eye, Times square, mobbin' like some pigeons
Robbin any store that could help us up our digits
Five rocks on my hand, snappin' like I'm Thanos
Got yo bitch blowin' like the wind to my flannel
Flippin' thru a band like a set of TV channels
Hard act to follow, I'mma hard act to handle
Big fucking stompers, never catch me wearing sandals
Step in front of me, Mac truck, leave you trampled
Tryna' play me, I would make you an example
Whitelean, bitch, you could never hold a candle

[Hook: 919SLUM]
Fuck with heaters boy gettin' burnt a bitch
Pull up to the function we gon' turn a bitch
You will not return if you be talkin' shit
Talkin' shit, we be hearin' all of it
Backyard creepin', we gon' hop a fence
He be typin' comments, he be dodgin' fists
Fourth eye, you gon' need a tourniquet (Fuck yo' verse, bitch)
Box cutter, it's his fuckin' turn again

[Verse 2: Dvagoh]
Raw
Dalla gola come mordo sopra i salt
Buco il timpano no colpo sulla drum
Finché non sono tre sotto faccio rrah
Turn up mentre aspetto il giorno
Ma l'ultimo e do il peggio in modo da non fare fila
Che scongiuro il momento quindi esploderò nell'ira
Prese le peggio strade ho già trascorso qualche vita
Per stare pronto a dirgli tutto in faccia quale Pizia
Almeno un emisfero in testa senza bandierina
Ma non posso atterrarci mille nodi e un cappio in cima
Frenetico nel mentre mi affino e placo la fame
Che creeppo e come Andre cerco sempre Carne Viva
Parlo di rye e parlo di scythe ma non si coltiva
Non passa né l'hangover né la lust di blood
CrazyNDaLazDayz e sono il profeta
Sia il club o il mio futuro è sempre fuck it up

[Hook: 919SLUM]
Fuck with heaters boy gettin' burnt a bitch
Pull up to the function we gon' turn a bitch
You will not return if you be talkin' shit
Talkin' shit, we be hearin' all of it
Backyard creepin', we gon' hop a fence
He be typin' comments, he be dodgin' fists
Fourth eye, you gon' need a tourniquet (Fuck yo' verse, bitch)
Box cutter, it's his fuckin' turn again