Runnin' these hoes just like tennis
Fuck what you thought of my image
Blocka-blocka-blocka--blocka-blow
A semi-auto with with the scope
I'm back in this bitch with the cult
I'm back in this bitch with the phonk
Scrim back in this bitch better know
Back and I'm scopin' with robbers
Come back and then jaws get
Come hard when you step in
Scammin', gimme your card
Off of a couple them bars
Talkin' a a a lot of that guala
From the eses to the shottas
Get my pills straight from the doctor
Off of the jump 'bout my shit
Offer the dump off my hip
Fifty shots like I'm back in the crack
Smokin' that pack off the jack
Stop tellin' me what to think
Stop tellin' me what to think
Stop tellin' me what to think
Stop tellin' me what to think
Stop tellin' me what to think
Stop tellin' me what to think
(assumptions, assumptions, assumptions)
Stop, stop tellin' me, stop tellin' what to
(Assumptions always bein'
I have become what I hate Sad to say
Too bad that it ain't a race
Always in bad shape, blunt to the face
I want all the smoke, let
What the fuck you gotta say?
Yung plague got nothin' to hide
Now I've never been one for
Yeah, I reject almost everything
I reject all the people inside
They can run, they can hide,
But I'll hunt 'em day and night
For the rest of my life just
Then shed tears like a crocodile
All the while my choppa smiles
Bite the bullet, that's not my style
Belly full of lead and stomach bile
You thought that your life
Just another fuckin' rank
Now your fuckin' bitch is walkin'
Safe neighborhood for the domicile
Redoin' the kitchen pickin' out new
Don't touch that fuckin' dial
World War III in a couple hours
But at least the house is
Bodies will be piled for miles
But the maid service was free