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letra de tax refund. - [z6]jimmy.

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reverend sticky hands
yeah, yeah, huh, huh
yeah, yeah, yeah
throwin’ my tax refund in the strip club

go away, b-tch, i don’t need love
n—a wanna talk about he bi, uh, buy what
i don’t sell drugs, n—a, stop that lyin
stop tellin’ your mama, n—a, stop that cryin

bust your head real open, now you look like
a godd-mn piedmont, n—a, you died
huh, n—a, i ain’t never been self-reliant
i’m like five years old, saw coke on the table, n—a

might wanna sniff it
uncle put a pistol with me in the head
so i’m dumb now
why got dent in my head, little n—a

i come from the slums, don’t come now
i told that b-tch, well, i beat her back, don’t come now
i know my d-ck long as h-ll, b-tch
come take this sh-t, b-tch, i know you want more now

water on the table, n—a, i’ma make the whole f-ckin’ ocean drown when i step in
boy, y’all talkin’ like crazy sh-t
n—a tied neck, talk reckless
talkin’ like a cryin’, n—a, smoke with a hole
in your neck, act reckless
i don’t give a f-ck about your gold-ripped grill n—a, leave you neckless

sn-tched your chain for the beat
that sh-t was motherf-ckin’ fake
popped my tax refund at a strip club once again
y’all n—a really don’t bang

ya’ll n—a never, ever gon’ bend
them n—-s on turbotax only got about five cents
had to pay the government back
like a godd-mn n—a where my money at

n—a, where the f-ck stop talkin’ that sh-t
suck d-ck where your mouth at
i don’t give a f-ck about your motherf-ckin’ bangin ass, n—a, where the clout at

loudmouth n—a like to talk too much
yall don’t p-ss in his mouth at
p-ssy ass n—a like to talk a lot
cunnilingus comin’ out this f-ckin’ glock

trap shut down yesterday
trap set down sat-rday
wait that was five years ago
wait that was seven years ago
i don’t understand time no more
i don’t wanna die no more
slang my die no more
your b-tch wanna f-ck no more

i don’t wanna f-ck no more
i’m feelin’ stuck once again
you off the plume once again
your ass get plump once again

choppa like tweezers once again
nose hair ass n—a, why the f-ck you hangin’ outside
you gon’ get plucked out
old leprechaun now, n—a short as h-ll

n—a, get your luck now
ask your coach where the gold mine, n—a
at the rainbow, shut it down
rain clouds over your building, my n—a

we gon’ knock it up and bust down
bust down rollie, avalanche, n—a think he kai cenat now
i don’t give a f-ck about a b-tch
i’ma kick out, tell her where the docs at

i don’t give a f-ck about yo son b-tch
where the f-ck, them’s fruit snacks
i’m f-ckin’ crazy even when i’m doin’ pillow s-x
you don’t bang a set, my n—a
i know you be lyin
at the strip club once again
with a tax refund
i’m eatin’ funyuns

while i’m chillin’ in the club
i’m on your block
eatin’ church chicken, n—a, r-i-p ya
i don’t f-ck with no lame n—a

talkin’ like bane, n—a
got her on muscle, n—a
you ain’t no bane, n—a
doo doo ass, boy

your supreme got stains on it
n—a, he ain’t got no aim, throw a bat, man
that sh-t got a boomerang on it

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