Yavid
Picasso on Stevenson
Pardon my shooter
We turn into werewolves under the moon yuh
I dropped out the school ya
I had a tutor I hit her tooter thats why im stupid
Pardon my French
I just left France w bad thing from east Africa
She got a bow in her legs when bend the corner aye
Pardon that bitch ass
Dogs hit the mobil w masks off
Got him a whole roll a scratch offs
I got no jimmy Im off in your TT face when I jack off
Pardon my ass off I prolly sold your lil tio some blast off
He snort this turn into Jim Carey when he put the mask on
Ridin through Paris at nite on a scooter
They think im a tourist some know im a shooter
My fiend had broke in your crib and slept in your basement again aye
Pardon my ooter
Pardon the razor on my tongue
Hope it dont puncture the heroin bag
Your boyfriend dresses in drag
He gonna tell you its swag
They said Pussies been tryin to kill me for years tell em im already dead
They said 50 had pulled up on the scene tellem I already fled
They said they found him in the street big ass hole in his head
They say a lot of shit I dont listen to shit that a lot of em they said
Im in my real life now
I need a real wife now baby I mean it
I paint the street w his blood
Made a Picasso on Stevenson Baby you seen it
How do you like it
Can you do better
Hi-pointalism
Hollowpointsetta
Scarlet letter
This my scarlet letter
Rick to the ruler
Chain chain chain chain
Two time loser
Gang gang gang gang gang
And these diamonds might cause epilepsy
Pardon my jewelry
Tuned up 1400 busa
Pardon my scooter
Big ass Russian siminov SKS aye
Pardon my ruler
I stretch his ass have a tailer measure him up for the suit at his funeral
I learned all that off in the JVRC as a youth as a juvenile
Them boiz is grippin this is flint michigan we bless the bottle and sip it
Them boiz they fire like engines shoot like they pistons dog do not piss them
Off
Sold more off white than Virgil
I keep a knife like a surgeon
Pay for a body now her nervous
I can tell you dont know what dirt is
Go check the rap sheet
Ain't no rapping on my fact sheet
Meaning I do not sing
Dickies and Ts til I made my first 50 Gs
Y’all thought all this came KING
Ridin through Paris at nite on a scooter
They think im a tourist some know im a shooter
My fiend had broke in your crib and slept in your basement again aye
Pardon my ooter
Pardon the razor on my tongue
Hope it dont puncture the heroin
Bag
Your man dresses in drag
He got tell you its swag
They said Pussies been tryin to kill me for years tell em im already dead
They said 50 had pulled up on the scene tellem I already fled
They said they found him in the street big ass hole in his head
They say a lot of shit I dont listen to shit that a lot of em they said