GUTS & GRIFFITH (feat. Flap PeaCock)
They know what's up
And if they don't, we grabbin' poles and loadin' up
Rollin' up, ain't talkin' blunts
Hop in the whip and floor the clutch
Rip the E brake out the column, hit the corner throwin' dust
Pull down on him, put the heat up in his face, he chokin' up
Barbed wire round my neck, chokin' on blood
Hard wired on that blow, need to calm down, pourin' up mud
Sharp spikes stickin' out my head piece
Ever since a kid I been a deadbeat
Wrap you in bedsheets and throw you to the sharks youngin
Let 'em take care of you
Flash the blick all you want but just know that I ain't scared of you
Get up close, hit you up with the blade and just start tearin' you to pieces
To leave you livin', well that wouldn't be fair to you
I'll put you out yo misery, take in all of yo energy
You gone in loving memory, pay for yo documentary
You played and this the penalty, turn you to sedimentary
And smoke on you for days, you on shelves inside dispensaries
Got me laughin' like a maniac
Ignorance is bliss but on the beat somethin' like a braniac
Loafin' in the crib, you need to do somethin' with yo lazy ass
Broke out the asylum, they can't catch up with my crazy ass
Bitch said my dick tip taste like Cheerios
Nut up in a honey, dancin' in her like a spiritual
She knows (Nose) to always hit my line (Peacock) she a fiend
'Cause I give her hella coke, she said it taste like gasoline
Ether
Bro you got to meet her
This little white girl, she be smellin' louder than some reefer
Or a speaker, she's a reeker, be sure to know she's a tweaker
She work magic in a pan, I thought that little hoe name was Peter
I'm fixin' to hit a line of snow, chill, it's fine
I do it all the time
And by this point, I feel like I don't even need to say it anymore, my youngin you know I ain't lyin'
I hop up on the track and murder it
I make this shit invertebrate, I find the verbs to break it's motherfucking spine
Eatin' these beats, got to mute the chomp
Lickin' my plate, my youngin, need another glass of wine
Yo songs is weak brother, ain't no comp
I be teachin' and killin' the competition, Columbine
She said "Flap you better kill this pussy"
I said K shawty, I'm a dog and I can count to 9
Sometimes I be trying to not be shiesty, my youngin but all I know is slime
Flappy, I'm a 10 ten times out of 10 so it makes sense (Cents) that a youngin always with a dime
I be doin' folks sour than a lemon out of spite, ain't no Sprite, a youngin green like a lime
Honestly I'm surprised, I done seen some motherfucking shit my youngin
I don't even know how the hell I'm alive
And I think I unintentionally take granted of it, every time I wake up in the morning and I open up my eyes
I be runnin' through these bags on bags on bags on bags on bags
Malnourished, sleep deprived