still gettin' kicked out the crib
Ripped off my bib, spit out my food,
I could smell the liquor in this
Cats always tryna' pick up the fist
Rappers stoop just to get to your crib
Now it's like who's face?
Distort thoughts, on my corpse
Back when I'd slack more,
rock my slacks or my as s
Everytime, I rap I blast- off
Back when I catch Cor', I always
Dippin' on cops in my track shorts
So tell my mom I ahad to make it right
I lie every night about the lime-
light so I could lie at night
Keep my head screwed on tight,
See me, I'm the contusion type
A cat to smack a mic and catch my fuckin'
hair when I'm losing height
Ratking, never losing hype,
It's Ratking and I do it right
Ratking, yeah, I do it nice, woah
Bitch, I skated before I rapped it You'd take

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Get nowBet twenty hots on your Daddy
To someone go Nolia Clap them,
probably cold and passive
Feeling down like he passed it and when I'm cornered,
I was kinda' out the game,
I'ma put the quarter right back in the slot
In 09', we took the 7 to the
Bitch, if yo' nigga had Su preme,
we was the reason he copped it
I'm on a hustle lyrics to box with
And some pretty bitches that ain't
trip if it's a hit and run
I got to go cause' I don't do
She Mario, I'm tryna' keep
bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum
nuggets on my fingers and my shirt like they was chicken crumbs
finna' yak if I don't hit the blunt
slim chances of me getting up
After this, mind in the trash next to where
half- a- Xanax when I'm traveling six hours or more
got kicked out of the morgue
Spit cattle manure shit, shit,