Birthday! ​hooligan chase

[INTRO]
Shit
Ask that bitch I'll hit the store, haha

[VERSE]
I had a good day!
They told me I'm weird as fuck, that's what they would say!
Woah, all up in my ear with that
Chase why you do this! and that
Chase why you do that!
Hit the blunt you should relax
God damn!
I’m a rude boy, slap you outcho' shoes boy
Me no got one hoe, me upgraded, me went to two, boy
You gon’ walk the plank, you tryna dance around me lewd boy
Wristy on my Gucci Amy (?) blunt be full of booth, boy
Zippy hoes, zippy ass, zippy dope
Pippy cash (?)
Zippy dough, it be cash
It be hoes, who be mad
Hit me bro, get me back
Tippy toe, do the dash
Fuck yo goals, fuck a class
Bitch i'm flexin'
(pew pew pew pew pew pew!)
My dick bust like smith ‘n’ wesson (it do!)
Kim be on me kiss yo bitch be Kanye Wessin’ (Kimmy got damn)
That’s my salad I won’t let nobody ‘dress it (nono noo)
Shawty sneezin', I love all my hoes, they blesses
(Achoo!)
Tweedle dumb, Tweedle dee
Lil blunts, lil weed
Brought a gun to the beach (aw, yeah)
Cause they some crab ass hoes, (yup)
And some crab ass bitches (oh, yeah)
Type to call you dad and cop a nickleback ass bitches (got nickle)
Got a gogurt round ‘me neck
Got my baby through the way
If you see me in the flesh I’m in chase world
(do not approach)
Back that ass up, I’m impressed
I ain’t never passed no test (nope!)
If I wife her up she better be a space girl
Fuck what they say, I’m goofy as hell (goddamn)
Bought some drugs with birthday money
Grammy sent in the mail
I got hoes on my dick
Pro’ fall if ya slip
Beatin’ hoes, that’s the shit
Hit the store for the chips
All my folks say
“Boy, you ain’t livin to well”
Fuck you mean? I’m feelin titties like I’m readin ‘em braille (is that so?)
Gotta go, let me dip
Stone cold stun ya bitch
Honey mustard on yo bitch
Frozen custard on the wrist
Ohh, you poppin’
You in the food court but don’t do no shoppin’
You smokin’ reggie, you coughin’
Still pokin’ hoes on Facebook, you need to stop it
I smokin’ cooties, freshed squeezed lemonade when I squeeze dat booty (that booty)
And I can’t forget the boobies
Loud patch gen-er-al, reporting for duty (sir, yes sir)
Fresh out dat landing strip (I’m back, bitch)
Ay, where my manners bitch? (where?)
Hannah Montana shit (ay)
(pass the fuckin’ blunt, stop talkin’)
Thing one, thing two, bean one, bean two
Suck me like I’m Dr. Suess, ooh (green eggs and ham)
I remember back in third grade (little boy)
I was copin’ kush, you copin’ dirt grade (ooh)
And how I hit the mall up on a Thursday (I run through dat shit)
‘Cause they felt it’s my birthday (where the fuck my cake)