Songwriter: Tyga Fam-Lay
Producer: Fam-Lay
[Verse 1: Tyga]
It’s that one shell splatter, burst, splatter gun, ra tata tata
Tap dance off a ladder, leave my nuts splattered
On an apparatus, you's a faggot
Fat fuck her in the pansy; Vatican assassin
Your jaw bone inside a jar like molasses
Paranoia on you cause it’s blood on your fabric
Bitch stretched out backseat of a Navi
Holding your breath, cold sweats, nerve spasms
I’m sick, damn, it's the others
Couldn't save the bitch, killed the brother
Lesbians, two mothers, no need for rubbers
Red skin leather couch, couldn’t see a puddle
You’re not in my game, you’re too late for the huddle
I’m humble, get buried by the weight; shovel
All about my cake like a funnel
Do that shit
I’ve seen this shit all happen, but I’ve never been a witness
Problem might die, but I’ll never been forgiven
Purchases, can't cop it if it's already driven
Cop like Carl Winslow
Front seat of a Regal
Let them things fly like seagulls
You gonna feel it in the air like Sigel, nigga
When them shots - bang
Pick a condo, pick a condom
Fuck a bitch; man it ain't bout nothing
And she ain't bout nothing, then I’m done after nuttin'
Thank you for your time, and litterly fuckin'
It’s that one shell splatter, burst, splatter gun, ra tata tata
Tap dance off a ladder, leave my nuts splattered
On an apparatus, you's a faggot
Fat fuck her in the pansy; Vatican assassin
Your jaw bone inside a jar like molasses
Paranoia on you cause it’s blood on your fabric
Bitch stretched out backseat of a Navi
Holding your breath, cold sweats, nerve spasms
I’m sick, damn, it's the others
Couldn't save the bitch, killed the brother
Lesbians, two mothers, no need for rubbers
Red skin leather couch, couldn’t see a puddle
You’re not in my game, you’re too late for the huddle
I’m humble, get buried by the weight; shovel
All about my cake like a funnel
Do that shit
I’ve seen this shit all happen, but I’ve never been a witness
Problem might die, but I’ll never been forgiven
Purchases, can't cop it if it's already driven
Cop like Carl Winslow
Front seat of a Regal
Let them things fly like seagulls
You gonna feel it in the air like Sigel, nigga
When them shots - bang
Pick a condo, pick a condom
Fuck a bitch; man it ain't bout nothing
And she ain't bout nothing, then I’m done after nuttin'
Thank you for your time, and litterly fuckin'