none (feat. midwxst)

歌手: funeral midwxst • 专辑:none (feat. midwxst) • 发布时间:2022-06-21
作词 : izzy z
 作曲 : izzy z
 Writers : funeral/midwxst
 Producer : funeral
 (funeral)
 Made that b!tch think I owe her sumn
 I don't owe these b!tches none
 I'm a sick son of a b!tch, I let that temple meet my gun
 Before I ever give these b!tches a dollar up out my wallet
 Think that b!tch still got my number, pray to God that she don't call it

 (funeral)
 I cannot get comfortable with these b!tches
 Tell her keep it to herself, mind her ****ing busine-e-e-ess
 Aight, I'ma **** with you
 Finessa, no Huxtable
 B!tch, I am untouchable, this pistol very tuckable
 I'ma **** the bag every night, 'cause the bag is the only thing in my life that's ****able
 Sike, nah, ha

 (funeral)
 Made that b!tch think I owe her sumn
 I don't owe these b!tches none
 I'm a sick son of a b!tch, I let that temple meet my gun
 Before I ever give these b!tches a dollar up out my wallet
 Think that b!tch still got my number, pray to God that she don't call it
 (Think I owe her sumn)
 (Owe these b!tches none)
 (Sick son of a b!tch, I let that temple meet my gun)

 (midwxst)
 He all talk, he not on go
 Play my cards like Yu-Gi-Oh!
 Cracked his head like he's an egg
 For his life, I heard him beg
 Can't go outside, I never fold
 Don't play games with me, no console
 I shoot my shot like Pau Gasol
 Ain't no damn way I'll sell my soul
 He got hit with that heat
 Nobody ****ing with me, nah
 Nobody really compete
 You telling a story, a fleet
 My money blue like Mr. Meeseeks
 You n!ggas not stepping, won't see me
 But you're gonna see me on TV
 That boy don't wanna fight, no PvP

 (funeral)
 Made that b!tch think I owe her sumn
 I don't owe these b!tches none
 I'm a sick son of a b!tch, I let that temple meet my gun
 Before I ever give these b!tches a dollar up out my wallet
 Think that b!tch still got my number, pray to God that she don't call it
 That b!tch think I owe her sumn
 I don't owe these b!tches none
 I'm a sick son of a b!tch, I let that temple meet my gun
 Before I ever give these b!tches a dollar up out my wallet
 Think that b!tch still got my number, pray to God that she don't call it, uh-uh

 (funeral)
 Think that b!tch still got my number, pray to God that she don't call it, uh-uh
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