Sike! (Explicit)

I've been on some burn it down leave this town never look back sh*t

Passing out on your couch sneaking out the back tip

Ripping credit cards out your mail box snatch sh*t

Charge it to the gameplay boy it's practice

What are we talking about practice we're talking 'bout practice man

They be on some got this squat this reroute the power grid

Cops can't stop this over our dead body b**ch

Heat this drop this turn it up louder kid

Put it down in our path million ways around this sh*t

We backstage sterilising tattoos with beer

Your cats stay paralysed from bad news and fear

You're underage they'n't f**king let you in here

Fake id g you'll buy us all a beer

I'm sick of kids who sit and b**ch about they can't get into sh*t

Your 'woe is me' steez is just getting bit ridiculous

F**king ay you're underage that means they just slap your wrist

If not you're young and fit yeah b**ch I'm running pits

Hah and give them all trophies

Hah and some orange slices

Yeah y'all already know me

One of the only that's really grinding

Lazy motherf**kers want to call it luck

But real motherf**kers know there ain't no such

Thing 'cos I mean there ain't no free lunch

You better fix your own plate or serve one to us

Come prear to your gody come play now facebook

Stay waiting for your dad to come save the day dog

Voted for obama and expect the change

Is just one big party all giving the same gifts

Sike

Like a p o s t-shirt

Yikes

It's only gonna be worse

Right

But this beat is kinda beserk

Turn it up loud until my f**king teeth hurt

Sike

Like a p o s t-shirt

Yikes

It's only gonna be worse

Right

But this beat is kinda beserk

Turn it up loud until my f**king teeth hurt

Yeah girl I own some gold teeth

I'm southern I was taught to hold heat

Ain't no gangster tell that true

Rick ross just a cop with some bad tattoos

Hey front up baby and my neck stay real red

Why you make-believe pushing that white sh*t

You dressed-up gangsters can play pretend

I stay slinging them white girls 'round my bed

Young steve mcqueen spit that dick game

You tweet real posse for a b**ch with a tin chain

I don't need no maybach just to sharpen my pimp game

Pull girls on my bike ride my handlebars home man

Ooh I put my word on that chief

Rihanna gonna holla way I murdered that beat

I cut them like an umbrella king kong in the bed sheets

Just try a better fella when you're done with that deadbeat

Sike

Like a p o s t-shirt

Yikes

It only gonna be worse

Right

Beat is kinda beserk

Turn it up loud until my f**king teeth hurt

See I can write your dumb raps

Pay me and go buy some hubcaps

Fake g's still talking 'bout gun claps

It ain't gonna happen like a-rod's comeback

Talent is cheap money's all made up

Gallons of beam and the speakers stay bassed up

F**k it I got nothing left to say son

Y'all get cryphy thank you based god

Sike

Like a p o s t-shirt

Yikes

But it only gonna be worse

Right

But this beat is kinda beserk

Turn it up loud until my f**king teeth hurt

Sike

Like a p o s t-shirt

Yikes

But it's only gonna be worse

Right

And this beat is kinda beserk

Turn it up loud until my f**king teeth hurt