Текст песни Skype Type Beat - YKK feat. King Kurt Raps

Hey
Bitch I'm really boutta blow all my money and make it back with interest
Now my neck got a hundred I got more on the wrist bitch
Know that my bank account lookin like a ritz chip
Back of the tour bus I'm boolin out with miss frizz
Lemme just talk my shit
Tell me what you know about it
These bitches outdated jowett
Neck is so froze super suit the outfit
All in designer I feel like Ben I'm drowning
Poppin my collar like Mafia
Counting blue hundred fuck Washingtons
Word to Jack Harlow what's popping bruh
Driving a Rari no dodge pickup
Bitch I'm high and mighty like the grand zenos
I took your bitch hit once then I'm out silento
They get left in the dust like Panasonic 3DO
Like Auta Magetta these bitches got weak egos

Burn shit kill people fuck school
Why'd you slap my ass

Got sick flow but they still can't stop me
Raps so sick I feel like Itachi
Sharingan couldn't copy
Hoes giving me sloppy
I've been moving my bands without a tour bus
Say who is the best rest assure us
Time to make it no cone up
Bitch I'll write till the suns up
Phone ringing yeah what's up
Hey what's up
Supa
I've been taking breaks but I ain't gone for good
I've been making mistakes just to polish my wood
But I was feeling so stupid
Till I went back to music
Got this feeling can't lose it
Won't be stuck in a Cube and
Now my blunts are all Cuban
Fire YK produce it
All my dreams are so lucid
But everyday I still wake up
2 years is a long time to make up
But this musics all shit
Fuck