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COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jayvon May
Jayvon May
Songwriter

Lyrics

Man these **** got me fucked up, catch up
Doin' five with a stick, that's an And one, blam somethin
Bleedin' scenes like a tampon
Big chop, test a **** like a Scantron
On my yezus, holy moly, bust down, rollie
All these bitches really on me, I do em' the coldest
If a **** bold, it's time for havin' **** rollin
Fight away with a Glock, bitch, I feel like Kobe
**** hate on the low, you wouldn't even know it
And these bitches love the game, bitch, we really chosen
Lean got me sleepy, bitch, I can't focus
Joy beam in the post, bitch, I'm through the post, I'm game
Yeah, and who we think it is
Johnny on my ass, lil' ****, and I'm a plead the fifth
Load the stick, bullet, make her stand still like you took a pill
Look at the wrist, he ain't ballin', ****, you on the bench
Crips in front of, dick in her stomach, make a bitch vomit
These **** broke, yeah, no comment, to be honest
We got chops, stick like it's Benihana's
Bleed the scene, in balenciagas, rock and roll
We a big chopper, show stoppa
B-Bowl, Lottie, got more head than his body
Dome shot heem', self-made, don't need nobody
So cocky, big chop, it knock the soul out heem'
How you gon' sneak diss , me, I'm **** role models
And she bouncing on the dick, hydraulics
Runnin' fast to a bag like a **** Sonic
Big Mac, extra fries, no McDonald's
Ay, Maury, pull up in that Jag
Lookin' like a bag, got these **** mad
And your bitch blow my trumpet like she playin' jazz
Red beam on the chop, bitch, we playin' tag
Turn around, bitch, let me hit it front and back
No cap, bitch, we in to that
Shot fired , we knockin' off **** fitted hats
And she gon' toss it quick like a quarterback
Bullets make em' shit like he really got the runs
Should've knew **** was fake from the fuckin' jump
Shout out the present, cause these **** willy-willy lunch
Money stick with me like shoes and bubblegum
Usain' wit'a bag, watch a **** run
Bitches get hit, then pass like blunts
Dunk yo' bitch like I'm LeBron
Stick, talk, you betta run, gang
Yeah, and who he think he is, split his wig
Woods got me lookin' like Jermey lin
I thought, fuck, she gettin' boot, Timberland
Money on my left, I got a stick in my other hand, yeah
Say hello to my little friend
I got bands and a rubber band
I don't want to shake your hand
A, band, be my favorite friend
Yeah, and who he think he is
Every time they see the kid, who he think he is
They like, who he think he is
Every time they see the drip, who he think he is, gang
Yeah, and who he think he is
Rauh, Rauh, Rauh, Rauh
Ay, it cost to live like this, you hear me
Gang
Written by: Jayvon May
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