Cry Playboi Carti

[Verse 1: $ir Cartier]
I started out bare handed, and pimpin' out some bitches
I'm a fat cat
So my bitches with the digits
I count my finger in out the fidgets
Last count, I need to come back
Figures to figure
I'm where I'm at now
Sniffed out the snort in my fort feeling like, "Fuck law"
Kings and queens, I fucked them all
White powder cover nose hurts sore
Reality hurts more, reality's a big bore
I get high, the swing of trees, fine swans and killer bees
'Cause I'm into hunnies, I could plant my seed to create
Love the ones I meet
Still rocking, still plotting
Emcee guts from chopping
That fat cat crying
[?] ability [?] wrist
Can't fuck with me
Get your suit up, boot up, your bitch drive in
Let's get [?] like a left side to your dome piece
The rome through the kings that he used to be the home to it
To all the fat cats with the greeting comes
[?] to say this in songs
Ain't that nobody wrong-do
To talk to me properly, that I believe, Zombie