lirik lagu zyon maye - child's play
[verse 1]
p~ssy n~gga, get in the field, b~tches still can’t hit the left lane
she wanna play chess, but the b~tch can’t even check mate
wanna go against me but the b~tch can’t even check me
hoes wanna take the quiz, but her ass can never test me
you can’t f~ck with me, b~tch, even on ya worst day
i don’t got no bots, my sh~t be on replay
bow down to the sword, b~tch, i’m your f~ckin’ sensei
and i’m peggin’ these n~ggas like we in the f~ckin’ uk
likе a booger in her nose, b~tchеs know not to pick with me
you not apart of our table, b~tch, you cannot come sit with me
say you livin’ my dream, but you lookin’ about fifty
you all about your money, but your racks really on mini~me’s
[chorus]
this is child’s play, b~tch, orange bob to f~ck the world up
i got a toast for these b~tches, so put your f~ckin’ cups up
he tryna f~ck on ol’ girl, but she told me you was uncut
but the doc’ is in office, so let’s get your ass a check up
[verse 2]
say you got the versatility but don’t have the ability
you b~tches are my daughters, yeah, i got a bunch of mini me’s
i’m the best b~tch around so you cannot come get rid of me
and that’s word to mrs. minaj, b~tch, i’m the one and only
i got these b~tches pushin’ pens but they still not on they writer sh~t
it’s their not there, ho, you not on your writer sh~t
quit your career while you can ’cause you is not a writer b~tch
surrounded by these fat~ass stacks, yet i’m still on my lighter sh~t
hoes obsessed with me, on my mc tip
b~tches wait for me to drop, grab they pens for tips
b~tch, you argue over n~ggas, ho, get a grip
and i’m busy stackin’ bread while you b~tches stackin’ chips
b~tch, need to leave me alone, you my son, you a clone
i don’t do much of the talkin’, b~tch, i’ll get you gone like al capone
i’m sittin’ on my throne, your n~ggas on a tombstone
all these hoes lookin’ for me like find my f~ckin’ iphone
yeah, i’m on that n~gga roaster but we will never f~ck again
b~tch, we don’t look alike so why you callin’ me yo’ twin?
rap b~tch, popstar in the makin’
and you don’t got no brain so why the f~ck you thinkin’?
i break down my f~ckin’ bars, decomposer
b~tch, why you actin’ out? keep your composer
all these fake~ass marys, you a poser
and my fans comin’ to me like they want a photo
[chorus]
this is child’s play, b~tch, orange bob to f~ck the world up
i got a toast for these b~tches, so put your f~ckin’ cups up
he tryna f~ck on ol’ girl, but she told me you was uncut
but the doc’ is in office, so let’s get your ass a check up
[outro]
so let’s get your ass a check up
ugh, yo
z~y~o~n maye
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