ULTRA EGO FREESTYLE!

Currently in the Stu' sipping water
Refreshing
He-he

In her but like some nicotine
Let me hit from the back
Pussy bold like mr Clean (Clean?)
Feeling stony, no cobble
She say my tunes are so awful
I think that she is sick of me
Ima roll up and hit the weed
Shawty suck in my dick but don't know imma hit and leave
Maybe i'm a bad person
I know that she hurtin'
Yeah, i think that she was really diggin' me
But fuck it, its karma mob
We on yo streets and we popping and dropping the top off
If you really want smoke
We can fuck right now and go, bitch
I might let the choppa off
Put the clip in, gratata, gratata, reload, gratata (Grah)
Shout out popping up and whipping in the auto shop
Lighting candles for the opps like Hanukkah
I put a fuck boy on a t-shirt if he trying to make himself prone
(Bah-bah-bah)
He better duck boy before this AR-17 hit him through the skull
Mop us up boy they be wondering how I be staying in that zone
Might be just luck boy
Who am I kidding?
All these bitches know i am coming for the crown
(Ay, Yuh)
I feel like a motherfucking god has been challenged
An artist to hop on a song
Ever since i was little they knew I was strong
Fucking these beats like it's pornhub.com
I do this for the fam', yeah I stay putting on
I do this for my man, trying to buy him a car
I do this for the bands
But its mostly the art I've been doing it for
Might grab my guitar
And seduce all the bitches around me
My style so muhfucking clean like some downy
These rappers retarded they lookin like downies
I pray one of these rappers wanna fuck round and clown me
I pray one of these rappers wanna fuck round and down me
Put 'em in blunts, I might make me some brownies
I'm covered in water I think that I'm drowning
Heard you don't like me go get you a bounty
The fuck out my DM's

My phone on air plane mode fuckboy trying to roast
Me, the only thing you roasting is beef you fat bitch
Stay on my nuts though it might get you some clout I
Know yo 100 sound cloud followers having ass needs it

Hit him with that right, left, like the Baby Keem dance
Shoutout rappers I left, only in it for the bands
Trying to get they pipe wet, only in it for the cans
I'mma need a mic check, lemme tell it to the fans
'Cus I know some of them don't really understand it
All these rappers fake, only in it for the brands
Only tryin to get paid, they ain't tryin to shake hands
And most of these rappers tryin to meet Chris Hansen
Pull out the Glock, have 'em Caramelldansen
I'm throwing shots, you would think that I'm camping
I pour a shot, got my liver straight cramping
Pull out the chop if the opps still standing
He gon' get rocked I'mma hit him while he candid
I'm on yo block with a mop doing damage
Shawty give me top in the bottom like a sandwich
Yuh, I heard a lil dude with no clout don't respect me
All these lil dudes round they mouth don't effect me
Patek got a wet muhfucka try and test me
Hit 'em wit' a strap, shit kicking like Messi
I'mma put him in the back, now I'm asking for the check, please
She got red flags, why this bitch tryin hex me
Hit it from the back, now I'm hitting up her bestie
I don't wanna rap battle, bruh, that shit zesty, yuh (Ew!)