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letra de x for breakfast (prod. fifty-2) - ken carson & destroy lonely

(ay check fifty-2’s track)
(wake up f1lthy)
x-man, x-man, x-man
yeah, x-man, x-man, x-man
yeah, x-man, x-man, x-man
uh x-man, x-man, x-man

[verse 1: ken carson]
she said, “what you eat this morning’?” b-tch, i had x for breakfast
i threw that b-tch on a sandwich, no cheese, no lettuce
i ate that lil’ b-tch, she was super wet, i ain’t need no beverage
the way i f-ck lil’ shawty, she comin’ back for seconds
upside down on my cross, yeah, you know i’ll shoot the reverend
send that boy straight to heaven, guess you could call it a blessin’
n-gga mad ’cause we f-ckin on the same ho, see me, nah i ain’t stressin’
or is you mad because she f-cked with me first and she f-cked with you second?
or is you mad ‘causе i got that bag and yo’ pockets unhealthy?
walk in that b-tch, they know i’m rich, yeah, they know that i’m wealthy
balenciaga on my kicks and my jacket margiela
he talkin’ like he hard as sh-t but he soft as a feather

[verse 2: destroy lonely]
n-ggas talkin’ bout some cash, b-tch, we havin’ extras (yeah)
n-ggas still smokin’ gas, b-tch, we havin’ pressure (yeah)
got this fine ass b-tch, she mad ’cause i still ain’t text her back
b-tch, i’m into fashion, yup
but my brother servin’ crack
if this sh-t don’t work, lil’ b-tch, i bet i go back to the trap
if he playin’ with my work, i’ll knock that boy right off the map
we got heavy metal, b-tch
these lil’ boys be havin’ scr-ps
i rock every leather, b-tch
yeah, you know that sh-t all black
i f-ck every type of b-tch
yeah, i can’t even cap
ho i touch every type of dollar, i like all kinds of cash
dawg, it’s 12, get behind us, roll the windows up and smash out
b-tch, i send my shooter money, he want cash app for that crash out

[verse 3: ken carson]
bang, cash app for that crash out
i’ma zelle that b-tch
put a n-gga on a cross, he get crucified
i’ma nail that b-tch
coulda f-cked yo hoe but i was too d-mn high to rail that b-tch
she was off that blow, so you know it ain’t nothin’ you could really tell that b-tch
f-ck it, i’ma go sell that b-tch
box her up, mail that b-tch
that’s how you know my pimpin’ lit
that’s how you know i’m pimpin’ sh-t
i’ll slap a b-tch out quick
and you know i’ll wipe a n-gga nose, just like a handkerchief
if a n-gga f-ckin’ with the o, i’ll put that bank on him
yeah i got a lil’ stamp, but i want a lil’ more, i’ll up my rank on him
i ash my blunt on him
i spill my drank on him
i don’t give a sh-t, i don’t give a d-mn, i don’t give a f-ck ’bout him

- ken carson destroy lonely

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