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letra de walmart pt: 3 - lockers

[intro]
(is that, is that what this is?)
(you′re such a little brat)

[verse matthew the artist private funeral]
i got lotta choppas, make you m.i.a., got bl!cky bl!cky
i be smoking wax outside the school
i make it sticky sticky
i got lotta hoes on my line
they’re just like icky vicky
all my exes all up in my likes
i know they really miss me
fur on my jacket, it comes from the zoo
i got a whole lotta swag and it came with a tool
and i′m anorexic, don’t be munching on soup
i be starving myself cause’ i stay in my room
what you talking bout′ when that glock′s out
when i spaz out?
pull up on you, take the trash out
me and matthew make the tracks loud
blast now!
i’m grabbing your b-tch and she in a position
then tapped out
what is that now?
claiming mac 10′s, sit your ass down
lemme throw stones at your glass housе
you gon’ talk sh-t on my wife
you gon′ bark b-tch, but i bite
that’s a call back when i writе
you think i lost it, it′s on sight
lemme throw you a bone when
i body the beat
and i know you a clone
you’re a product of me so
lower your tone
when you’re talking to me
up with a gun when you walk up on me
and i spit in your face like i′m mad
cracka, i′m using my hands
homie lay off of the xans
i’m flyer than boy peter pan
i′m k!lling the game cause’ i can
(yeah) i′m doing my dance, she go in my pants
ain’t going to heaven so please do not ruin my plans
i flew into france, b-tch give me the yams
i′m shooting my shot cause’ vegetation, ass reputation
no hesitation
i’m the best at hating, hope you pass away
and rip the pad the page, and this my passion, ain′t it
where′s your cash you’re saving?
releasing emotions i bottled up
i′m grabbing these p-ssies like donald trump
i’m turning a crip to a blood, cause′ that’s all he coughing up
offing them, this what you gotta love
love eating these rappers and seeing it′s luke gawne
i vomit up louis on me, what it cost uzi on me
now you gone
my beauty go beast when i flaunt, i’m nice
tik tok on my clock
homies staring at my wrist watch
check on my neck
lockers duo like we drake and josh
max and ruby with a toolie, gonna hit you
make your brain rot
you don’t wanna see me in the dark, juggernaut
what i got, in my sp-ce, you run or not
she say i′m sweet, i′m b-tterscotch
your face in the streets, my gun will pop
get a taste of me your tongue will rot
uh, uh, uh, on the dot
(uh) red dot, big barrel like pinocchio
with the way she’s lying on me
thinking that she knows me?
no do si do
if you snitching on me meet the holy ghost
i′ve been through the ringer cause’ i almost f-cking overdosed
too bad that i lived, now i′m the shepherd to the sorry goats
i got hoes
i got lotta flows
bro might overdose
comatose, put you in a hole
boutta lay you low, when you go
hoe, don’t hit my phone
i don′t got no time for no jokes
k!ll yourself with blow
i only got time for my pole
(bow)

- lockers

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