You see bitches, I see fucked up whores
Sweat from pores, kicking doors
The bad days, in a haze
Ain't eaten crisps in a while call that Lays
Sellin' shit, getting paid
Layin' sunbed, call that laid
Shit goes down, Puttin' on a frown
Buying land
Ay, ay
Fuck these hoes that say they compose
Shoes, ay, what are those
Hoes, no clothes
Got a good flow, Kendrick Lamar
Tell me I'm fucked, that's going too far
Rules I can't abide, right from the side
Right down the slide, pulling the trigger
See all the figures, building a builder
Ay
Ay, ay
That's what I call-
That's what I call that
Delivering mail like I'm postman pat
Yeah, Yeah
I don't see no shit
Call me fat, but I lost it
I don't see no shit but I don' know call it
Freestyling cause I always lose my lyrics (ay)
Ay
I don't know what the fuck to do
These hoes be fucked up like their mothers
I guess it runs in the family
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
They always say they wanna be free
I say, bitch, if you wanna be free
Then you go down that path of freedom
You don't just complain about it
Cause that's what lame people do