Gangsta ass lollipops, your bitch got a sweet tooth
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I make art, y'all niggas make hits
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I make music from the heart and what you make is shit
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Softer than the couch, step up, get knocked out
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Poppin' bottles in the club, I'm just chillin' at the house
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Playin' war games with 4 dames in your name
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Don't get high, stay fly and inside your lane
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Tame as a derriere but it gets scarier
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When you try to test the best in your area
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Aerial attacks and burials and wax
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Like an Annabelle tale, but scarier in fact
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Where the rappers at? Where the rappers at?
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They told me real rap is dead, I had to laugh at that
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How is it dead if Wu-Tang's Forever?
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Better than the worst but Murs is still better
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The Leroy and Bruce, I deployed the troops
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The devil is a liar but these boys the truth, what's up
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Gangsta ass lollipops, your bitch got a sweet tooth
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Okay I gave her a cavity, you hate that it had to be
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Regal Rhymesayer, Mister Laver, your majesty
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Lettin' my nuts hang like Tiffany had his weave
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While y'all toss salad, anything for a salary
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You call it a triumph, I call it a tragedy
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Casually I turn competition to casualties
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Converse with my rollo, I call him Murcielago
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One thing I'm certain if it hurtin' 'em I know
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I'm an introvert, a street kid, was never into Vert
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I'd rather pen a verse, some call it audacity
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Where did he get the nerve, usin' no blackberry
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Nigga, you gettin' curved by labels and hoes
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Layaway on your clothes, another day I suppose
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You portrayin' a rose, I would say you a troll
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And it's takin' his toll by the way human go
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I can't give a F-U-C-K what he sold
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It's Fash
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Gangsta ass lollipops, your bitch got a sweet tooth
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I'm in the 4-door Ford escort
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With 4 escorts with high test scores
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Indoor dro grown next door
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In class with them hickey neck sores
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That's too much sauce, that's too much sauce
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Had to turn to Pookie, "Baby, that's too much sauce"
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As far as I'm concerned, I don't f*ck with the list price
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Rappers these days ain't been in a fist fight
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You never know homie, I could be a fraud
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This atheist chick I'm f*ckin', she treat me like a god
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I'm poppin' pills in the VIP all day
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I'm an industry plant, I'm just playin' the long game
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Bitch never wrote a rhyme in my life
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And after the club, I'm gonna break your wife's hymen tonight
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Shout a couple dudes for a career in rap
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Turn up, turn up, fleek, fleek, bruh how real was that?
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Pookie
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Gangsta ass lollipops, your bitch got a sweet tooth
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