Tattoo

(album: Impostor Syndrome - 2022)

Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot
Huh
Shit, Shit

Watch your bitch
Watch your fucking mouth
When you talking to me
Honestly, Imma spaz out
You not rocking with me
Wait a minute
What's this all about?
Niggas [?]
Hold up nigga
Let me call it out
Bitch I, bitch I, bitch I
Been that nigga
You just finding out
That's Joe' Font'
Now pay attention bitch
Cause once I slide it out
We won't talk
I'm not the Guinness bitch
But open up your mouth
Drop your drawers
Imma sit down
You gon' pick it up
Watch it fall
What the business is?
24/7 no shooting this shit off the hip
I get on the beat and I trip
Like I don't know lyrics my nigga I only know hits
Bitch I am as hard as it get
Talk to me nice if you talking or you gonna get
I do you like Will did Chris
I hit you dead in your shit
You speak on my bitch
My niggas is doubling up
Cash in, cash in
Who really fucking with us
Pockets are stuffed
But it is never enough
Im going a hundred and one
I need me a ton
The way I'm acquiring funds
I might have to go get a gun
I feel like Big Pun
Thought you was a killer
I know I'm a killer cause I get it done

Bitch I'm on that
Hot shit, that fucking hot shit, I make it hot
This that hot shit
And when it drop bitch
This shit gon' pop
Okay throw it back
If you 'bout your mother fucking dollars
Throw your hands up
If you 'bout them mother fucking commas

This that hot shit, that fucking hot shit, I make it hot
This that hot shit
And when it drop bitch
This shit gon' pop
Okay throw it back
If you 'bout your mother fucking dollars
Throw your hands up
If you 'bout them mother fucking commas
Nigga

[?]
The wet on my wrist like I just bout a brand new Philip
What you scared for
We killing the labels that give you a quarter a week
[?] no problem
My niggas is violent
So come press the issue with me
We send in [?]
So I think the best course of action for is to retreat

1,2,3,4
Remember subway surfing, and we skate to Dollar Tree
We spent our ass on beef patties and CBD
Remember selling drugs to the white boys across the street
It seems like those days behind us is R.I.P
I can't tell you nothing 'bout the faces that I see
They [?] like M.I.B
The police put you under and they tell you c'est la vie
You do the same and they go on a killing spree