[Verse 1]
Semi automatic tear em up, I’m a jerk
Why they say make bands but I know they don’t work?
Just one day a week then you get a paycheck
Bitch I make that in a minute, I could take a rain check
What a bad joke, Imma' call em Jared Leto
Imma' meet up with your girl, driving out to Sacramento
I’m like the final and you’re more like the demo
You can act so hard then ya' turnin into Jello
I’ll be reigning terror, why the fuck I gotta spare em'?
Bitch I’m burning retinas, better yet I’m melting sclera
Don’t ask for a price whеn I know you can’t pay it
Boutta blast off, cap stocks inside trading
I am the bookie, I’m bеtting up, I’m against you
You will stay the next to best cause Imma' best you
There ain’t nothing personal, I just know that I’ll end
Any motherfucking rappers that worry about the trends
[Chorus]
YCK, what it mean? You Can’t Know
Sipping on a Blue Moon, chewing on tobacco
Burnt air on the fucking forecast
That we can’t repair, treat em' like a doormat
YCK, what it mean? You Can’t Know
Sipping on a Blue Moon, chewing on tobacco
Burnt air on the fucking forecast
That we can’t repair, treat em' like a doormat
Semi automatic tear em up, I’m a jerk
Why they say make bands but I know they don’t work?
Just one day a week then you get a paycheck
Bitch I make that in a minute, I could take a rain check
What a bad joke, Imma' call em Jared Leto
Imma' meet up with your girl, driving out to Sacramento
I’m like the final and you’re more like the demo
You can act so hard then ya' turnin into Jello
I’ll be reigning terror, why the fuck I gotta spare em'?
Bitch I’m burning retinas, better yet I’m melting sclera
Don’t ask for a price whеn I know you can’t pay it
Boutta blast off, cap stocks inside trading
I am the bookie, I’m bеtting up, I’m against you
You will stay the next to best cause Imma' best you
There ain’t nothing personal, I just know that I’ll end
Any motherfucking rappers that worry about the trends
[Chorus]
YCK, what it mean? You Can’t Know
Sipping on a Blue Moon, chewing on tobacco
Burnt air on the fucking forecast
That we can’t repair, treat em' like a doormat
YCK, what it mean? You Can’t Know
Sipping on a Blue Moon, chewing on tobacco
Burnt air on the fucking forecast
That we can’t repair, treat em' like a doormat
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