[Intro]
I was all yours
I know I fall short
Just play for y'all's court
I'll keep my jaw short
(On c64)
(Lockhart)
[Chorus]
Promethazine, the cup on piss, I need my cheese, I need my Swiss
Cracker talk shit, he a saltine bitch, packed out the zip, it's a protein spliff
You cut me bad, knife in the back, ass, bitch, I'm mad
I'm on my last, I'ma just let that sit, hating me won't get shit done
[Post-Chorus]
Bitch, I been that cracker, I'm a hall of fame rapper
"Capper" whatever y'all lil Twitter nerds be about
Y'all beef bout a bitch, me and bae gon' see it out
Hydrocodone in my belly, I'ma pee it out
Ya soft than Charmin, you don't wanna beef, shit, got a pea body
Me and bro was on our last in the wee body
Throw your dawg T-bones in the pee potty
[Verse]
Hi-Tech in a Brisk, it ain't shit to get him out in a click
Saturdays keep my head spinning, and Sundays were made for bread winning
And I think thеm, them Mondays was made for bread spеnding
Runways, private jet tripping, and in some ways I was dead living
'Til I woke up out that coma with both my legs missing
All that running don't do none but make your head distant
And if I told y'all what the fuck I meant, y'all would scratch your heads with it
Think it's best you keep your mouth slammed
'Cause a lot of crackers died thinking they was Uncle Sam
Aye, lil bruh, you don't run shit fresh strawberry jam
Better pack your buns, bitch, I told him it's Sam-I-Am
I was all yours
I know I fall short
Just play for y'all's court
I'll keep my jaw short
(On c64)
(Lockhart)
[Chorus]
Promethazine, the cup on piss, I need my cheese, I need my Swiss
Cracker talk shit, he a saltine bitch, packed out the zip, it's a protein spliff
You cut me bad, knife in the back, ass, bitch, I'm mad
I'm on my last, I'ma just let that sit, hating me won't get shit done
[Post-Chorus]
Bitch, I been that cracker, I'm a hall of fame rapper
"Capper" whatever y'all lil Twitter nerds be about
Y'all beef bout a bitch, me and bae gon' see it out
Hydrocodone in my belly, I'ma pee it out
Ya soft than Charmin, you don't wanna beef, shit, got a pea body
Me and bro was on our last in the wee body
Throw your dawg T-bones in the pee potty
[Verse]
Hi-Tech in a Brisk, it ain't shit to get him out in a click
Saturdays keep my head spinning, and Sundays were made for bread winning
And I think thеm, them Mondays was made for bread spеnding
Runways, private jet tripping, and in some ways I was dead living
'Til I woke up out that coma with both my legs missing
All that running don't do none but make your head distant
And if I told y'all what the fuck I meant, y'all would scratch your heads with it
Think it's best you keep your mouth slammed
'Cause a lot of crackers died thinking they was Uncle Sam
Aye, lil bruh, you don't run shit fresh strawberry jam
Better pack your buns, bitch, I told him it's Sam-I-Am
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