Ayy, ayy, ayy (Woah, Kenny!)
Bitch, you better praise God or I'ma shoot, and that’s on God
I ain't playin' ’bout my Lord and Savior, I'm on my job
If you ain't a Christian, I'ma stab you in the face
If it ain't 'bout Jesus, I'ma hit you with this K
Jesus is the one
Hell yeah, praise Jesus Christ, nigga
Free Palestine, free Tay-K
This the trap game Abraham Lincoln
Four score and 16 bars ago
R.I.P. Betty White
She ain't dead but for when she die ’cause I know it’s comin' up
(Woah, Kenny!)
Ayy, lil’ bitch, how you not gon' fuck on a real nigga?
Yeah, I'm gettin' paid, still late on my bills, nigga
Your bitch at my crib, I just let her charge the iPhone
Asked me if these diamonds, nah, bitch, these some rhinestones
Armpit musty, Reeboks dusty
My show got canceled ’cause white folks don't trust me
Now I'm in the strip club with glue on the bottom of my shoe
Nigga, that's how I do
Ayy, I'm stealin' money from these bitches
I'm hittin' licks year 'round like it's Christmas, I got addictions
I take the condom off and drunk my nut, it's delicious
I wanna get a whip and crash it into white-owned businesses
Ayy, ayy, nah, hold on, I got this hook
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
I'ma dip my balls into some thousand island dressin'
'Cause I got depression
I'ma avoid my taxes, then I'ma get arrested
'Cause I got depression
I'ma rob my mama and I'ma spend the money on a old Chevy
'Cause I got depression
Everybody know, nigga, you need to learn your fuckin' lesson
Nigga, I got depression
Ayy, shout-out mental illness, shout-out mental illness
Dude, if you've got a mental illness
Like, fuckin' turn up, dude, like, seriously, dude
Like, whatever the fuck you got goin' on, dude
Fuckin', you're medicated, you're not medicated, dude
Like, seriously, fuckin', bro, I put my fuckin'
I put my dick in a bag of Doritos
And made this nigga bitch suck the dust off the tip
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
