Lyrics: JPEGMAFIA
Music: JPEGMAFIA
Uh
Stuff, stuff a uh
I stuff a Glock in my pussy pocket (Hey)
Bitch stop it skinny nigga, big papi (Hey)
I put the pedal to metal, we go Nicki ****j (Huh)
One deep babe, you can't top it (Brrat)
5'9", with the stick I look like Big Papi
I keep a shotty, bottom bitches not harm me
How could I not be? Everything you copy, huh (bitch)
I killed rock, now I'm sending bullets at you zombies
You never haunt me (Hah), bitches tried to Vietnam me (Yeah)
But I've been playing with pistols
Since you watching Toonami (Yeah)
I'm not a rapper, I'm white trash in a mocha body (Oh)
Ain't no career, I'm just hoping Madonna adopts me (Facts)
I get it popping, **** rock, bump pop (Brrat)
I put the stock in, I'm scheming, I'm not plottin' (Hah)
These bitches steppin' to me, end up Gianni Versace'd, bitch
Say, say
Do a feature for what?
Bro, I been dyin' to kick it
I'm too big for my britches
I'm too rich for these bitches
Rich in spirit, not in wealth, bitch
Don't get it confused, you feel me?
Again, do a feature for what?
(Like, like, what the **** for?)
And you know that I'm afraid of everything
Written like a girl who stuck her heart away
And you know that I'm afraid of everything
Baby like a ghost at night
Keep goin', baby
Make me cry, bitch
Like, make me ****in' cry
Make me ****in' cry
We talkin' about this story, I'm 'bout to ****in' cry
We talkin' about this story, I'm 'bout to ****in' cry