YRS - Grim Reaper

Bruh how should I come on this bitch bruh?
Say that one shit, that one shit you was talking about
What you mean that one shit?
That one shit nigga
Alright fuck it
I just sparked a Russian, who want smoke? I'm the arms dealer
If he try to play me stick him up he a fucking pillard
Bullets blowing fire out the chop like a air bender
Took the thirty off and put a drum this a transgender
You can't count the money quick as me I'm a page skimmer
I'll let a bitch go you say "don't" like Bryson Tiller
Caught him on a date and beat his ass now he real tender
I knew he was a bitch before I swung I had Cole flinching
Beat a young bitch from the back now she old limping
Threw a whole pint in the fridge now I'm cold sipping
Let your bitch hold the drac got her ass pole stripping
Really stacking on and off the clock I be code switching
If it ain't about the money I got to go bitch I'm gold digging
What you doing now I don't care about your old missions
No I'm not sharing hoes nigga get your own bitches
If you don't got the money right now you gone owe interest
Or Ima have them niggas come hound you with the poles clenching
Finna call my cougar right now she a whole mistress
Stuffed so much dick in this bitch she a froze chicken
On the tenth floor high as hell like it ain't no ceiling
White and pink runts in this wood this a bag mixture
Every claim I bust it double up I'm a stash flipper
Naw I ain't forget about that shit don't think I ain't remember
Young nigga got it on my own I ain't have a mentor
Man these bullets have you coughing like a bag of runts
If you ain't trying to hit that shit nigga pass the blunt
Oh you better not drop that shit or your bitch a slut
I just hopped in that bag I ain't have to run
Shit talking on this bitch I just had the runs
Boy I really beat your ass don't drop that gun
Man this beat so damn hard Mir this that one
Shit talking yea we takin a number three
Little bitch big titties it's a double d
I'll do anything for pape I'll chop a tree
I can't have no tall bitch I don't climb on trees
Bitch I'll whisper again, who gone stop me?
I can get y'all dumb hoes I know y'all like me
But I don't want y'all bum hoes y'all might rob me
I'll leave a bitch crying like Mitt Romney
Oh naw fuck it I'll have Chris slide for me
Junkie at the door, I'm finna let him in
Started selling all this shit and now he losing dividends
Smack the fuck out of a donor I don't need a helping hand
As for a play or a jugg you gone need to phone a friend
My dog ain't cheerleading but he might just catch a body
Foreign bitch, pretty face man I think she finna to top me
Scorch his ass with the K I left his ass too hotty
Dog whipped his nose again man I think his ass too snotty
Sleep walking out the stu bitch I need a chauffer
Bitch can you cook? I ain't trying to eat no stouffer
Wearing Gucci took his ice now he can't go "burr"
Chain dancing on my neck looking like a slave
Fiend took the scale whooped his ass he misbehaved
Backdoor a nigga over food think he Rod Wave
Had to up Skelly put the watch in the grave
Bet your bitch stop and stare I don't even gotta wave
Bet she get up in this whip and drop that neck boy
Couldn't cop the vette so I copped the check boy
Drive the whip but you better not leave a spec boy
I ain't wearing Nike but I got the tech boy
You can't fuck her right so she using sex toys
Fucking in the buffs man that pussy black boy
Punching on the beat like I'm Oscar De La Hoya
Thinking that was me man y'all niggas caught the decoy
Damn Seth you got them niggas driving to Illinois
Why you trying to fuck I heard your pussy was a heater
Happy when the pape touch down I'm a real cheeser
Nutted in a bitch on purpose I'm a real tweaker
If she look then she took boy she ain't a real keeper
Cut the nigga feet off his legs he met the grim reaper
Knocked a bitch out so hard she a real sleeper
Put the dick in that freaky ass bitch

Written by:
Antonio Gaines, Christopher Reese, Seth Williams

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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