lirik lagu sav - scoobert doobert interlude
thirty bad b~tches and all of ’em tens
b~tch i’m 3 hunnit like i’m from the lam
bread put away case i get in ajam
thought i was muslim until i went ham
ten glock 11s, got twenty fns
mac with a beam and the clip, it extends
hollows, they cut not as deep as the pen
shawty, she want me but i want her friend
sending me paragraphs telling me i’ll never be sh~t
i lied and replied and i said i ain’t reading that thesis
she cut me off and she left me to pick up the pieces
she get replaced like some fazos when they get the creases
’cause even i feel a lil’ odd
been feeling like i was a fraud
i been tryna get closer to god
why he telling me drop the façade?
so girl, put your hand in my palm
’cause you feel at home in my arms
i said that i’d write you a song
but you gon’ end up hearing it wrong
i’m awkward, i really be distant
the baddies, they think i’m autistic
can’t figure me out like a ripstik
still f~cking up all of they lipstick
getting money, i swear it’s an instinct
’cause i rap, i ain’t paid off of this sh~t
and the trap going crazy ballistic
trap jumping, it tore its meniscus
b~tch!
feeling like i’m sh~ggy ’cause the way i keep my dawg around me
shawty let me f~ck and then she told me, “write a song about me”
text in her chat, she tell her friends that they was wrong about me
they really wasn’t though
b~tch!
they really wasn’t though
you a dirty freaky hoe
now i’m rocking show to show
and i’m coppin’ all the clothes
getting sloppy in a rolls
sippin’ wocky out the foam
why they copy all my flows?
twelve stop me at the door
they asking what i know
just lock me with the bros
i’m ferb from that show
i get the pack in
i flip it and tax it
it’s gone like it’s magic
the mac automatic
the packs acrobatic
i’m smoking this jattic
you don’t want no static
’cause sh~t could get tragic
i bought a new patek
and we wreakin’ havoc
when we gettin’ active
i smoke like an addict
your new b~tch, i had it
your homie, he ratted
your mans is a —
ran it up and lost it all, that’s some sh~t you hate to see
shooters pull up like the falcons, we got twenty~eights to three
missoni room with like twenty b~tches
forty grams in my carry~on
sixty drum on some glocks with switches
eighty thousand in a savings bond
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