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lirik lagu lol, writers block – pablo

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he gon’ diabetes (die of beatings) like i gave him type two
he gon’ be blood when i’m finished, he pyru
my wrist is a natural disaster like typhoon
you need to stop chasin her she don’t like you
she was not “right” so you know that i “left” her
he just like tires he come with the pressure
you ain’t my momma don’t give me a lecture
i took yo girl, you prolly should’ve kept her
just like two hundreds i get me a check
that cat ain’t my dawg send him to the vet
this not a grade, please don’t try to test
i’m testin’ my aim, shoot it through the net
choppa a chain, put it on ya neck
stay out my lane, or you gonna wreck
you catchin’ on, no odell beck
i’m gonna cuff like she under arrest
this is a splurge flow, i’m goin turbo
i smoke gelatto, turn to steve urkel
look in my double cup, you see the purple
all of my haters more salty than myrtle
if i want it ima spend it again and again
you ain’t a gangsta you like to pretend
give you advice homie i recommend
go back to school and go recomprahend
i got a f in my cl-ss so i’m flunkin
sellin them donuts like i work at dunkin
if i see him in the streets then i’m dumpin
i’m finna eat like i went to a lunch-in
i took him out like a g-y date(no h0m-!!! im sayin i k!lled him)
i can’t wait for this money like payday
i’m finna take flight like a vay-cay (vaccation)
a boss walkin through so just make way
i’m comin strait out of lit-town
he funny like stand-up, man sit down!
he used to be blood he a crip now
how does that work?? you gonna get murked
just like tye dye, put him on a shirt
hittin them angles not talkin bout kurt
we not the ambalam you gon get hurt
i’m like a flower i grew from the dirt
what’s with ya dome? you must got kept back
call me lil kyrie, i make people step back
you is a fraud, hoe you gonna rep that
he stole yo girl and you gonna accept that

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