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stomp em out - kappalot lyrics

chuck, man, you brokeer than a b*tch—man, go get some racks
like it’s mortal kombat, punch you up just like that n*gga jax
like my last fight, combat—might just stomp you out just like i’m deck
n*ggas dissing on the net, them n*ggas ass, some n*ggas whack

catch that n*gga out up in the street, i put him in a pack
wesley is a b*tch, that n*gga ugly, and that n*gga fat
3% in english—how the f*ck this n*gga even passed?
n*ggas say he a “crash,” everybody in the room just laughs

n*gga dumber than a b*tch ’cause this n*gga skipping class
this n*gga can’t rap—this n*gga sh*tty, and his n*gga ass
b*tch, i’m swerving left and right, i think i’m ’bout to f*cking crash
pop a perk up on the beat, i think i’m ’bout to do it fast

shot that n*gga in the head, we left him leaking on the dash
all these n*ggas, i’m gon’ dunk up on them n*ggas like i’m nash
i can’t f*ck that lil’ ho no more ’cause that b*tch don’t bring me cash
my b*tch got no tittiеs, but she thick as f*ck—a h*ll of ass

got her b*tch all up in my phonе, she talk about smash or pass
i might f*ck yo’ b*tch like once or twice, and then i do the dash
bet the five i put your ass in a full chain
b*tch keep calling my phone, she saying mitch jackson gone through her brain

n*gga broke as f*ck, these n*ggas asking for some change
n*ggas spin some hoes, you know these n*ggas stay the same
dissing sfg, i’m never switching on the gang
catch that n*gga lacking, i’m gon’ shoot him in his brain
p*ssy n*gga try to test me—n*gga, don’t address me
p*ssy n*gga name is wesley—n*gga, come correctly
gucci shoes on my feet, now a n*gga watch his step*y
yeah, i’m screaming, “f*ck 12,” them b*tch*ass n*ggas wanna arrest me

pop a perk and now i’m in that mode, won’t let no b*tches stress me
got two b*tches on my phone, they talk about they wanna bless me
go and stomp him up, punch him in his mouth
n*gga dissing on the net, we took his life for chasing clout

me and my n*gga, nasty*doddy, run up on him, chase him down
can’t wait till these n*ggas die so i can see their mama frown
da*do*da*d*da*d*d*d, n*gga know you is a b*tch
so why the f*ck you get a gun?

n*ggas always talking sh*t, them n*ggas b*tches run
keep a smith like i’m f*cking jaden. fat blunt, i’mma blaze it
got my jimmy out, she tryna taste it. told that b*tch to save it
bad b*tch said i’m all up in her playlist—knew i’d make it

shot him twice, he got the harlem shaking
draco get to baking, fire inside come like it’s f*cking bacon
young og in the making. she the dada, oh, that b*tch jamaican

- kappalot lyrics

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