Lyrics make it happen - Kxmcxle

Bitch I'm tryna' make it happen
You be posted in the trap wit' all them pistols you ain't clapping
I been rapping for a minute I'm just tryna' make it happen
And you know this shit a passion
Why the fuck he always actin' like he got it, but he not it
I be itchin' like a addict
But i'm itchin' for money
And I cut them bitches off cause they was actin' all funny
It's lookin' sunny, where i'm goin' and you not you lil' dummy
I'm feelin' bubbly cause I poured another fifth in my tummy
She bout a gobble my meat
He talking bout he want a feature but this shit ain't for free
I'm bout a run up on his block and leave it smelly with fleas
She on her knees, I'm bout a bust all on her face and then leave
You better lower that tone or i'll leave you gone
I'm at my home I'm shittin' pissin' while I'm writin' this poem
Put that gun down why we never be fightin' shit anymore
I swear it's cool cause it'll change when I'm shinin' up at the door

I'm in the zone
Straight up in this music I ain't pickin' up my phone
I'm bout a run it all alone
And I'm havin' my dogs and I got my girl
I'll put em' on i'm tryna' buy em' a home
I'm tryna' buy em' a crib
He want the static this ain't television knife in his ribs
They think they on but in reality they just some lil' kids
I'm steady focused on this money don't got time for no sins
I don't got time for no bitchin'
I'm not gone sit up in my crib when I feel sorrow
And skip out on all the shit that I could do
Y'all think I'm stupid just cause I ain't finish school
That shit not cool you think cause I started rapping I'm bout a lose?
You better tie up them shoes
I'm bout a run it through the ceiling while you sit like a stool
He talking all up in my dms he get hit like a Juul
I got her wet like a pool
They say you needin' all this shit i'm bout a change up the rules
Cause I got myself
I used to wanna get a gun and go and pop myself
But now I'm focused on this rappin' rockin' out can't you tell?
Apologize for all my sins can you not send me to hell?
(God?)
I'm tryna' come up to heaven
He got a gun but that shit only for the way that he flexin'
Pick up a blade up cause I be choosin' that for my lethal weapon
And I be stressin' come and try me Ima give you a present
I'm bout a wrap him in paper
And then i'll leave em' in a barrel he gone fade like a taper
She suck my dick and then she tellin' me she likin' the flavor
And when I pop up in this industry I'm doing no favors
And when I run up hella bands I'm bout a buy me some acres
These rappers acting like they love this shit but they be some fakers
They be obsessed with getting all they fuckin' names in the papers
I'm bout a prosper in this life don't give a fuck bout a hater
(Bitch)