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letra de ​justrelapsedlmaooo. - ​pho. (pop)

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[intro]
ah, f-ck, ah
i f-cking hate rap music
this sh-t f-cking sucks
yuh, yuh-yuh-yuh-yuh-yuh

[verse 1]
how come these rappers act like i’m not super saiyan? (yuh)
reppin’ that, shawty 5’2″, and she from j-pan
sippin’ on that wok until i cannot f-ckin’ stand (yeah-yeah)
we pulled up on that lil’ b-tch, you know that f-ckboy ran
bad-bad-bad b-tch on my f-ckin’ d-ck, tryna taste me (oh, what?)
smokin’ until i cannot think, come in lately (yeah)
i-i-i l!cked on a bad b-tch, i think that her name was stacy (yeah)
b-b-b-tch it’s young majora, think i’m turnin’ to a lady (yeah)
skirt on my waist, now i’m feelin’ h-lla great (yeah, yeah)
all these rappers actin’ fake, boy, they lookin’ two-faced (yeah)
no i cannot f-ck with these rappers, catchin’ case after case (uh)
self-harm scars on my arm from this blade

[bridge]
b-b-blood (ooh) drippin’ down my f-ckin’ arm from my vеins (why?)
b-b-blood drippin’ down my f-ckin’ arm, i just laid (why?)
lookin’ at my ceilin’ until i am not awake (yeah)
lookin’ (yеah) at my (yeah) ceilin’ (yeah) until (yeah) i’m passin’ away (yeah-yeah-yeah)
[verse 2]
b-b-bad b-tch on my chest, slide with my neck (yeah), b-tch
i-i-i know you so mad that (yeah) yo’ b-tch gon’ hit my text, b-tch (yeah)
i-i-i f-cked yo’ last ho and now (yeah) i’m comin’ for yo’ next b-tch (yeah)
and if you have a problem wit’ it (yeah), this glock got extensions (yeah)
shoot it at my mentions, shootin’ at the opps now
that boy askin’ h-lla questions, he look like a cop now (yeah)
rollin’ up this sh-t until i can no longer cough now
plug gon’ hit me up for ‘nother ounce, i’m ’boutta cop now
i don’t want no shop now, what i want, i got now (yeah)
w-w-why the f-ck these f-ggots all up on my f-ckin’ c-ck now? (yeah)
she was tryna f-ck before, but (yeah), still, i am a boss now (yeah)
fendi on my waist (yeah), little b-tch, i got that bust (yeah) down
h-lla diamonds rough now
take another puff now
f-ckboy-f-ckboy askin’ for a feature, i’ma leave him shut down

[outro]
a-a-ayy, b-tch, get off of my d-ck
why do these rappers be talkin’ their sh-t? (yeah)
i got a glock, i might spray at yo’ fit, uh
i cannot f-ck wit’ you, or that b-tch (yeah)
she is a fed, yeah, i know that b-tch, uh
i hit up the plug ’cause i need some sh-t
i’m coppin’ some bud, i’m coppin’ a fid
yeah, i got a ap on my mo’f-ckin’ wrist (majora)
yuh, yeah
yeah-yeah-yeah
yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

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