IGD

Ohhhh finna talk my shit

 

My only ghost writers is my multiple personalities

tired of mfs doubting me in a constant act of balancing

the sane thoughts with the not ones get excited to cop guns

that’s a mag fulla hot ones team fulla top guns we plottin to pop son

he say he blood I’ll leave him bleedin in the street with

20 paramedics tryna keep his ass breathin yeen ready to beef w

me turn this bitch to ww3 in a minute b

compulsive no look just send it yee yee

give a fuck who he be cuz they know who we be now the deals go down easy

now I’m so grown dat grown men tryna be me

mask off time to let em see me time for measures to be drastic ain’t gon be a bb

when I grab a ratchet and blast At you asshats

another ratchet hood rat classic white boy with the magic

how df that happen pokin on a bad bitch

rollin up a fat spliff grab my pen n pad get to scratchin

goin in that’s it homie said that’s lit ain’t stoppin shit till I’m mad rich

its tatted on my backwrist ima die tryin to get this bag bitch

now I’m out like a light w a bad switch