Paul Bearer

Enrgy made this one

Smokin', oh my god

Smokin' Swisher leafs 'cause the Backwoods fucked up

Look at my neck, light show, bitch, I'm Hutch'd up

Turn my hustle to the max, bitch, I ain't luck up

Three, three-six of Runtz, you get stuck off of one puff

Touchdown that's a six out here, hut-hut

So many dunks in my closet, don't know what's what

Point it at his toes, turn his Yeezys into Foam Runners

Why the fuck you put the cuffs on her? She a known runner

Three-five, Durantula, bitch, I only blow Thunder

High as hell on the roof, drippin' like a broke gutter

I do the dash and crash this bitch, I got full coverage

On the block with the big bees, I think the hood buzzin'

Shoot the baby Drac one handed, got the wood jumpin'

Rap star, you might catch me in your somewhere in your hood clutchin'

Walked out crispy, feelin' like I'm Kidd today

Doin' 60, pourin' Kesha, shit, I had to hit the breaks

Ain't a shovel, P-90, it's gon' dig his grave

D'Usse in my Gatorade, I'm shootin', tryna win the game

Ayy

Trackhawk damn near broke my neck tryna take off

Boy, I wish they would, do the race and shake the jakes off

2021, I copped a mower, cut the snakes off

Dealership new whip, I told 'em "Take the breaks off"

When brodie slide, it's a hit like a Drake song

Trendsetter, not a wave rider, I create sauce

On my way to it right now, I can't wait long

Look me in my mirror tint, you can clearly see you're losin'

Look at your bitch, why she starin', boy? I think she choosin'

Look at your shoes, boy, you broke, who you think you foolin'?

Bitch let me send her up in Sprint, shit, I think she stupid

We gon' pop him in his Cartis if he think he buff

Orange and brown Yeezy 350s look like Reese's Cups

Doggie can't buy an eighthy so he takin' breezy puffs

Pull up, burn him like some alcohol since he think he cut

Lookin' like the auto shows, Scats irkin' up the block

Full court press, slap the floor, turn it up a notch

Spillin' wocks on my sneaks, look like detergent on my socks

Doggie layin' in his bed cryin', hurtin' 'bout a thot

Can't relate, though

Met my one plug in Mexico, I paid him pesos

Seen my one opp, I ain't say shit, I gave 'em halo

Mike Amiri's, bitch, see my jeans like "Where they make those?"

Maison Margiela, I got paint toes

Bankroll so fuckin' big that it can't fold

Hunnid tucked, if I get caught, that's the case closed

You can go home with them Xannies, we don't take those

You can go home in them Converse, we don't wear them

Told bro like, "When we pull up, no, you can't spare them"

Fry his top with the chop, fuck around, electric chair 'em

Yeah, the Glocks something like these Nike sneaks, we gon' air 'em

Okay, undertaker, I don't wrestle, I'm with Paul Bearer

Soarin' in the track, 150 think the hawk scared her

So many red lines poured, we typin' all errors

Wintertime, I'm a road runnin' Nike jog wearer

Summertime, I'm the type to drop the top and hit the hood

Eighty dollar eighthy, Zaza, you can't hit this wood

At Benihana's, told the bitch make sure my shrimp is cooked

Timmy Turner strapped up, boy, I wish he would