produced by me

lyrics: 

(we talk about this, we talk about that, we talk about things i should've said, we talk about debt, we talk about life, you talk about me, i talk about racks, i talk about plans, i talk about things i shouldn't have said)

i need to lift, the left side of my head
i'm still tryna make sense, of everything that they said
and the worst part about it
is that it's starting to click

when we get older the pressure get greater
i'm not gonna do it right now if it's something that i could do later
and that's my problem
stuck at the bottom

i work so hard but don't feel any greater
i like to talk about life but life do not like the way i portray her
and that's my problem
i tried to warn them

(imma tell a lie right now like)

shoot at anybody i look at and see, i just bough a cruise now i'm overseas
that boy still my son, pay respect to me,  don't need no tutorial i do it with ease
i don't need an eight, bitch i need the tree, i just sparked it up so it's hard to breathe
if they did you bad, don't get mad at me, heard he getting mad cause his pockets E

and i lie... until it comes true and, maybe that's the reason i'm not mad you
i try every time but it's... always the same, 
if i did it right then i still end up picking up the blame

had to cut him off because he did some shit that i don't claim
now that tryna turn around and tell me that i'm fucking fake
tried to get help but then they said that i should meditate
that bullshit doesn't work for me what works is getting paid

hop up off the bed i pop
fuck the breakfast, i want rocks
bitch if i paid i'll cop
i'm friends with felons can't get caught
bet you never heard of me
i walk in and start a scene
act, bitch we sipping pink
packed, but we still jumped in

and i tried i tried i tried
i'm not good with wasting time
most good times come in disguise
but fuck it, i'll say it fine

and we talk about this, we talk about that, we talk about things i should've said, we talk about death, we talk about life, can't

rude

|￣￣￣￣￣￣￣ |  
|        DICK!
|＿＿＿＿＿ _＿_|
(\__/) || 
(•ㅅ•) || 
/ 　 づ

!!!SMOKE!!!

sick asf new era
obligatory sick song
prod kit

sick asf new era [prttygrlskmfck]

strapped 🔫 n im ready ✅ 2 dye !!!!🤯💥☠

PRODUCED BY @hikitttt
MIXED & MADE W/ @sor-uh

LYRICS

[Verse 1: Athena]
I rap like a king
You run on 99 ping
Usin' wikihow cause you don't know a thing
Your money talk, mine gon' sing
We some opposites, yang to a ying
Switch up flows like my hairstyle
Cheated on me, now I'm wearin' Argyle
No midwest emo here, pile no pile
She think I'm the shit, yeah, she turnin' up that dial

[Hook]
What you want with me
Big guy from South Jersey
Baby mama curvy
You don't wanna fight, g
I be like Matt from the Wii
Got your girl straight under lock 'n' key
Tell me to be less arrogant
But I vent 'n' I'm irrelevant
What you want, some settlement?
Me 'n' sor uh tearin' it up
Pass it to my bro, I got some drank in my cup

[Verse 2: sor uh]
Ayo, fuck a fan, I'm lookin' for a cult lil hoe
I'm like Katara in this bitch the way I'm mastering the flow
I feel like Appa in this bitch the way I'm whippin' wit my bros
I'm talkin' Louis Louis Louis way I'm drippin' in this coat
I feel like Rei the way I stay elusive shy guy at the function
Bars are zipbombs bringing PCs to destruction
Pussy need some lip balm, y'all are fuckin' dry
"I love you XD" more like y'all just make me wanna die
I'm runnin' runnin' runnin' faster
Y'all like Windows 95
Spinnin' up some blocks
I'm talkin' stabbin' like I'm Spy
I'm the Ambassador the way I'm shootin' in between ya eyes
I would never do a feature then I hit 'em with a (SIKKEEEE!)
L-L-Lil bitch, I stay equipped with the Black Box
Rap on scuff piano, screamin' "Yes!" like Matt Ox
I'mma Wall Street bitch the way I crash stocks
Pretentious music fuck, you know I never pass aux

[Hook]
What you want with me
Big guy from South Jersey
Baby mama curvy
You don't wanna fight, g
I be like Matt from the Wii
Got your girl straight under lock 'n' key
Tell me to be less arrogant
But it's all for my benefit
What you want, some settlement?
Me 'n' sor uh tearin' it up
Don't fuck wit my bros, got some shootas on ya block
What you want with me
Big guy from South Jersey
Baby mama curvy
You don't wanna fight, g
I be like Matt from the Wii
Got your girl straight under lock 'n' key
Tell me to be less arrogant
But it's all for my benefit
What you want, some settlement?
Me 'n' sor uh tearin' it up
Don't fuck wit my bros, got some shootas on ya block

ZIPBOMB

ZIPBOMB (Ft. sor uh)

an account dedicated to making kit type beats uwu

follow the real me :3 
@hikitttt

!!!SMOKE!!!

prttygrlskmfck

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