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punch artist - ak bandamont lyrics

[intro]
ak bandamont, n*gga, i get bands a lot, n*gga

[chorus]
i don’t trust people, i don’t trust myself
these n*ggas wouldn’t plug me, i run it up, had to plug myself
b*tch got mad, wouldn’t f*ck, she said, “f*ck you, i’ma f*ck myself”
got the glock on me and it’s tucked, b*tch, don’t touch my belt
just hit a slab and let it sit ’cause it’s pale as h*ll
the n*gga been prayin’ hopin’ that you fall off to see you f*ckin’ fail
i love hittin’ the mall and blow bands if i can punch as well
when it come to hittin’ dope, b*tch, i’m a pro, but i can punch as well

[verse]
you get it? b*tch, i punch perfect
got sold a n*gga eight lines, said it was purp’ but i was just perpin’
n*ggas be spendin’ ten tryna get high off but was the blunt worth it?
high as h*ll crib while you was f*ckin’, take everything, but was the nut worth it?
this lil’ b*tch left urgent
we get to cookin’ dope in the trap house and see you shut curtains
been ballin’ for a minute, i’m king james, but i’m the thug version
label hoes be lookin’ bad f*ckin’ up ‘woods, they need a blunt surgeon
just hit the plug, sold out an hour later, had to redial it
i woke up, wrapped ten bricks and made a flip while i was freestylin’
this b*tch was in my ear playin’ around, i told her “freestyle it”
i fell off times trashed back fifty, i’ma keep pilin’
b*tch, i’m big paid
got this fiend who sip while he shoot dope, he look like rick james
i’ll slime a n*gga and throw him in the blender after a quick stain
you ever made ten bands in two days and did the big blade?
sh*t, i’m f*ckin’ big blade
i was a lil’ n*gga, goin’ to school with dope, i was in sixth grade
i wasn’t takin’ a test, that lil’ circle pill a quick a
i pop one in class, an hour later, b*tch, i didn’t sit straight
i caught a n*gga runnin’ and i popped him, he’s a human racist
i just copped a pint and poured a four, i think i do it daily
this n*gga shot up a gram and went lights out, he ain’t finna make it
he od, it’s a wrap, i’m off the map if they investigatin’
my dog careers go dumb, but even dumber when he next to faded
hurricane on head, the casket open and you next to layin’
i keep this sh*t a hundred, you n*ggas cap, y’all won’t make it faking
if i’m on the road and i run into the feds, then i make it bacon
[outro]
i don’t trust people, i don’t trust myself
these n*ggas wouldn’t plug me, i run it up, had to plug myself
b*tch got mad, wouldn’t f*ck, she said, “f*ck you, i’ma f*ck myself”
i got the glock on me and it’s tucked, b*tch, don’t touch my belt
just hit a slab, i’m finna let it sit ’cause it’s pale as h*ll
n*ggas be prayin’ hopin’ that you fall off to see you f*ckin’ fail
i love hittin’ the mall and blowin’ bands but i can punch as well
when it come to hittin’ dope, b*tch, i’m a pro, but i can punch as well

- ak bandamont lyrics

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