[Round 1: Yung Griz]
I’m ‘bout to dump this Colorado nigga in the o-cean!
They gon’ find him gone
From the mountain to the Pacific...y’all know what time I’m on
I’m in my zone
And this is my house, bitch!
I’m ‘bout to put you on
See, this game is cutthroat
That’s why I cut throats
And when I make where you put your tie reek, he’ll (Tyreek Hill) know this my home
I ain't come to play
And got some things to say
So let's get into that
You have not put in enough work to have anything drop on the app
But these niggas still put you on and that's why you feelin' you that
I got this shit outta somebody's trunk, and I had to scrape the serial back
The machine made this Biscuit
I made my Biscuit from scratch
You asked-
HAAAAH!
HAAAAH!
You asked for this!
The staff got a written plan to have you lit
Know how I handle it? Cannon lift
See, I'm on yo' side...I got a stick to the man you script (manuscript)
So play ya role
'Cause for the next 20 minutes, I'm in control
It's 'bout to get darker than Navy blue
They brought me in to go (indigo)
If you die, you gone!
You pass? Then you cut: that's a give-and-go
Nah! Better play
Stab Biscuit: that's a pick-and-roll (pick in roll)
Wow!
The nigga's cannon so craaaazy
Y'all 'bout to piss me off
Only thing intricate about you is how you were able to get a spot in the Crucible and trick it off
This a loss
You are not as hot as you think you are
This nigga don't even know he not SMACK for real
This a Floss!
Popeyes! Biscuit! He gettin' tired of the bars!
'Til it's Biscuit on a shirt like, "I ate mine in the car."
The only way you survive is if God hear a prayer
BOW! The bullet hole forever gon' need care
Every time a breeze hit the wound, he knowin' it's there
I ain't send the nigga flyin', but the nigga still sore (soar) in the air
You not ready!
There ain't a God. Damn. Thing! you could do wit' me
And that's true indeed
Hit you wit' these, and lean Biscuit: they gluten-free!
I’m ‘bout to dump this Colorado nigga in the o-cean!
They gon’ find him gone
From the mountain to the Pacific...y’all know what time I’m on
I’m in my zone
And this is my house, bitch!
I’m ‘bout to put you on
See, this game is cutthroat
That’s why I cut throats
And when I make where you put your tie reek, he’ll (Tyreek Hill) know this my home
I ain't come to play
And got some things to say
So let's get into that
You have not put in enough work to have anything drop on the app
But these niggas still put you on and that's why you feelin' you that
I got this shit outta somebody's trunk, and I had to scrape the serial back
The machine made this Biscuit
I made my Biscuit from scratch
You asked-
HAAAAH!
HAAAAH!
You asked for this!
The staff got a written plan to have you lit
Know how I handle it? Cannon lift
See, I'm on yo' side...I got a stick to the man you script (manuscript)
So play ya role
'Cause for the next 20 minutes, I'm in control
It's 'bout to get darker than Navy blue
They brought me in to go (indigo)
If you die, you gone!
You pass? Then you cut: that's a give-and-go
Nah! Better play
Stab Biscuit: that's a pick-and-roll (pick in roll)
Wow!
The nigga's cannon so craaaazy
Y'all 'bout to piss me off
Only thing intricate about you is how you were able to get a spot in the Crucible and trick it off
This a loss
You are not as hot as you think you are
This nigga don't even know he not SMACK for real
This a Floss!
Popeyes! Biscuit! He gettin' tired of the bars!
'Til it's Biscuit on a shirt like, "I ate mine in the car."
The only way you survive is if God hear a prayer
BOW! The bullet hole forever gon' need care
Every time a breeze hit the wound, he knowin' it's there
I ain't send the nigga flyin', but the nigga still sore (soar) in the air
You not ready!
There ain't a God. Damn. Thing! you could do wit' me
And that's true indeed
Hit you wit' these, and lean Biscuit: they gluten-free!
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