Rx Bird - #WN2I

Yeah, I be by myself
I can't step by myself
Shut up pussy nigga that nigga dead
Ohhh kinden
I got on black and beige,
I can't see them through these shades
Bitch, I'm hardcore, I got your bitch backstage
We can go to war, I got some AKs and grenades
Pulling off a lace, that shit like a toupee
All around her mouth, like some fucking toothpaste
If I'm on the xans, you can't introduce me
Watch me kill a nigga, give his head a two-piece
Kick your ass like I'm Bruce Lee
I drop the low, I'm in Atlanta, nigga, come and shoot me
You gon' drop the low in Alabama, boy, you must be kidding me
Yo, I get a fuck, nigga, smoke just like a chimney
Nigga get smoked like a poke, tell him, get up with me
Yea yea yea yea get up with me, that's that Za talking
Everywhere I go, get up with me, that's that Za walking
Everywhere I go, get up with me, I'm just not talking
Everywhere I go, I keep that blick, I'm just not walking
You can say these words to yourself, I'm about to get to it
You can text her back all day, I done been through it
Everything I'm doing now, I'm making sure it's insured
Lock it up, I throw away the keys, can't get into it
Nigga, you don't wanna..
Nigga, you don't wanna stop your influence
Nigga, thinking that we cool, bitch, we into it
Yuh yuh yuh yeaaaay
Nigga, thinking that we cool, bitch, we into it
Nigga, I let that that window down, I hit that fifty round
Yeah, he don't want to be in it, tell that nigga that he in it now
Bitch, you think I can't do this like your bitch ass just invited sound
I created rap, nigga, that always gotta be talking down
Bet I grab this switchy or this ARP, it jump around
She might texting you, but on my dick, so how that fucking sound
Chopper, bless you, that
ARP, it make him fall down
Ain't no teammate, I pass me the fucking ball now
Feed me grapes and shit
Holiday, holiday season, you fucking chumps

Written by:
Tyler Thomas

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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