Lyrics: JPEGMAFIA
Music: JPEGMAFIA
Uh
Stuff, stuff a uh
I stuff a Glock in my p***y pocket (Hey)
B***h stop it skinny nigga, big papi (Hey)
I put the pedal to metal, we go Nicki shit (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 b*****s not harm me
How could I not be? Everything you copy, huh (b***h)
I killed rock, now I'm sending bullets at you zombies
You never haunt me (Hah), b*****s 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 b*****s steppin' to me, end up Gianni Versace'd, b***h
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 b*****s
Rich in spirit, not in wealth, b***h
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, b***h
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