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letra de toxic blessing - cash kidd

[intro]
haha, nah, for real, g
tie a n-gga up, the motherf-cker cash kidd sock in this mall
b-tch-ass n-gga, huh
ayy, f-ck you n-ggas talkin’ to?
psh, yeah (i like that, anton)

[chorus]
f-ck out my face with your advice, you broke, huh (you broke, yeah)
let me catch you hatin’, i’ma hop on your ho, boy (ho)
i ain’t your b-tch, what you lyin’ to me for? (what?)
tryna get over on me like i’m drivin’ too slow (yeah)
showed her an m, no, i’m not c-ckin’ her though, huh (no, i’m not)
feel like scooby doo, hit the lot, get the ghost, ooh
no pink slip like my job let me go, lil’ broke-ass n-ggas need to find ’em one

[verse]
pst, she can’t leave me ‘lone, i’m a toxic blessing (ayy)
i’m beefin’ with some bums, all my opps is peasants
lil’ dirt, think he sweet with my sloppy sеconds
i buss down a plain, n-gga, 9-11
she takin’ in my kids like child protectivе
new crib, got it black like my house infected
yeah, lake in the back, i got it wrappin’
pick her up, make her walk back, michael jackson
you broke, scammer, need to start retiring
just found 13k inside the dryer, yeah
b-tch so spoiled like her time expired
they payin’ for the lines like a job at chrysler, yeah
big backends, i feel like a spider (ayy, ayy, ayy)
i’m son to all these n-ggas, i should rock a visor
you f-ckin’ in the car, almost popped the tire
my kids in her mouth like a mama tiger (ayy, ayy)
we ridin’ in the striker, tryna find a striker
i only want the mouth, i ain’t tryna wife her (yeah, i’m not though)
i got a thousand hoes and my mama like ’em (my mama do)
he’s savin’ all the b-tches, he a firefighter (yeah)
it’s time for you to go, but your neck was splendid
she actin’ like a keeper, she was recommended, huh
b-tch so bad, give her ass detention
i feel like santa claus how i stand on business (what you mean?)
[chorus]
f-ck out my face with your advice, you broke, huh (you broke, yeah)
let me catch you hatin’, i’ma hop on your ho, boy (ho)
i ain’t your b-tch, what you lyin’ to me for? (what?)
tryna get over on me like i’m drivin’ too slow (yeah)
showed her an m, no, i’m not c-ckin’ her though, huh (no, i’m not)
feel like scooby doo, hit the lot, get the ghost, ooh
no pink slip like my job let me go, lil’ broke-ass n-ggas need to find ’em one

- cash kidd

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