I'm not in the mood
I knock you out
Your shoes
Didn't make any flips and
Now my rent due
You tryna get this smoke
Its out the window
Come with me
Baby now, let's ride home
Nat geo graphics in 4k
Big booty ****ing
Baby that's my forte
Call me chef base
You smell the paraphernalia
Fiends tryna
Get to the product
Its wrestlemania
Loud mouth
Chatterbox suck on my
On my genitalia
Pipe dreams
Crack and the
Pistols is what the flavors are
Secrets in the dark
Black skin on my
Skeleton, it's halloween in a
Room full of elephants
Naked ladies
In the sun tryna match
My melanin, ban
Me from the olympics
Wanna trade my
Medals in
Who can **** with me think
About It and I'll wait, you wouldn't fit
The description in perfect health, NO
I got my eye
Through some heavy iron
The led is auto pilot
The trigger finger
Happy without a license
Draw weapons
Those were the only
Niggas we called the
Artists, sketchy niggas
Who end up dearly
Departed
The trigger happy
With no emotions
Delighted with death
& I dare you look
Without losing focus
S'gwinya amakhowe
And see jesus not using
Focals, scorching
My cinnamon sweet trees
I was never sober
And I gotta tell em when I'm..
I'm not in the mood
I knock you out
Your shoes, didn't
Make any flips and
Now my rent due
You tryna get this smoke
Its out the window
Come with me
Baby now let's ride home
Poppa gotta brand
New bag I gotta get
Some, I lost my mind
I guess you
Lose some
The iron is scorching
Look it's the morning star
You better find
That shade
I'm tryna get sun, the streets
On fire he dying so young, I know a
Homie who gotta real gun
Inherited money
Blowing the lump sum
Trust fund babies
I couldn't see none
I'm not in the mood
I'm hungry as hell
I knock him out of his suit
Judge my decisions but you ain't
Filling my shoes
Listen to the rumors
You ain't singing my blues