Yeah, you know the beat 250
They say you dudes is dead, but we keep it filthy
You on the internet talkin’ shit, you're creepy
'Cause we the motherfuckers that you wish you could be
And we ‘aint ever gonna stop,
Hoes sit on my face and on my crotch, then wash my socks
And I'm fox on the hunt for some box
Bad bitches in high tops wearing my band shirt, take off your damn skirt
Hang around me for too long, you run the risk of getting burnt
Like a dab hit, speaking my mind over some odd-time slam shit
Handle it
She loves the dick
You'll get slapped mad quick for talking shit
Your pride is gone and now you're left for dead

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