Prophet Joegus & Berlin44 - Triple Threat

Haters want beef like mincemeat
But they assist me just like Bixby later on
I hit a lick cuz you know that I be making that chicken
I'm keeping in crispy
If my chicken ain't got no seasoning, miss me
You only keepin it 50
Bitch please
Crackhead energy, neck so itchy
Haters so pressed, so bitchy
Yes hit checks, I don't gotta impress, don't pick me
Grinding my gears so shifty
Too fucked up in the club so I'm finding my peers I'm pretty drunk, don't trick me
Feeling so sweet like a pixie stick, don't you diss me quick, she way too frisky, miss me
Snakes around they hissing, so keep em on the hook when they act so fishy bitch
Then I hit the bank like Richie rich
Stop making that noise I'm thinking
Boys don't stop that dissing but I don't care never flopped my business
Too much smoke gotta cough that chimney
Pop like frizzy, drop like drizzy
Too many bars on the beat, go off I'm dizzy
You better stop don't piss me
I don't want no antics
Ball with mandem, off to Panjim
Boy you rancid
Got no time to be romantic
Got my flow to fast I'm panting
Hit the beat and then I'm dancing
I ain't rapping boy I'm ranting
Way too big I'm feeling gigantic
Man go flip up the car door
Pull up with a mask no face I'm feeling bardo
And I didn't wanna name drop bob but the man don't stop finna bring up the cargo
All black clothing, way too hot, I'm feeling like charcoal
Polo shirt on me I'm feeling like Marco
Listen, I got a beat for the bars I'm dishin
Yeah I be spittin efficient
They all be tryna blow up my ambitions
Flow is so dirty, emission
2020 but no clear vision
So I no scope hitting that, when she throwing it back
Cause you know that I never be missin
All of these fakers be shiftin
Shifting like gears, I'm finna go faster
Surpassing my peers, I'm gonna be the master
Facing my fears, like I'm at Lancaster
Playing the game like I'mma go pass her
Dropping these bombs like I'm a disaster
Keeping it hunnid, I preach like a pastor
I'mma read this, I'mma spit this, I'mma beat this I'mma kill it
Gotta lead this, ain't a street bitch, I'm a big dog I'm the realest
Aim for the moon, shoot for the stars
Cling to the tune, wrap up some bars
Cop up a few, like the money was ours
For all we conclude, we are who we are
Got all these flows up, ain't the best of me
Watch me blow up, can't find the rest of me
They got dem, thinkin it was destiny
They thought that they could really better me
I'm the calm before the storm
And on god this beat disarmed
I just killed this shit I'm gone
But I got the whole thing wrong
Now I hate it that I waited
Could've made it celebrated
All these bitches overrated
Yeah my plans weren't really stated
Not so basic I'm creative
Yeah I said it and I made it
Yeah I said it and I made it
Compensate the way I played it
Haters want beef like mince meat
But they assist me just like Bixby later on
I hit a lick cuz you know that I be making that chicken
I'm keeping in crispy
If my chicken ain't got no seasoning, miss me
You only keepin it 50
Bitch please
Crackhead energy, neck so itchy
Haters so pressed, so bitchy
Yes hit checks, I don't gotta impress, don't pick me
Grinding my gears so shifty
Too fucked up in the club so I'm finding my peers I'm pretty drunk, don't trick me
Feeling so sweet like a pixie stick, don't you diss me quick, she way too frisky, miss me
Snakes around they hissing, so keep em on the hook when they act so fishy bitch

Written by:
Bardo Berlin44, Bob Berlin44, Prophet Joegus

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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