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lirik lagu beast mode 2.5 – trdee

[part i]

[intro]
(d*mn, jakesand)

losin’ me is dumb as f*ck, it’s somethin’ i don’t recommend
really do this sh*t, don’t do no cappin’, this is not pretend
sendin’ shots, so if the shoe fit, it’s f*ck who i offend
mad because i’m ballin’ on your mans? well, come and guard me then
model x with the cocaine seats, no, you can’t eat in here
i can get some head and smoke a blunt, ain’t even gotta steer
i’ma take your b*tch and give her back, no need to k!ll yourself
he ain’t had no motion in a while, that boy might need some help

i can drip myself, i do not need a stylist
i won’t tell a lie but just don’t make me promise
i hope you don’t get mad at me for bein’ honest
’cause if you ever callin’, come in just like sonic
glocky got a thirty clip, where dell curry?
i think that casamigo got my vision blurry
you ain’t got no money, bro, you pushin’ thirty
she was like my play shoes, i did that b*tch so dirty
ballin’ like i’m kobe and that’s to the end
they ain’t got no high, be all they do is spin
[?] demon time, sh*t, you might be my twin
gotta take a couple l’s if you tryna win (no cap)
[interlude]
you hear me?

[part ii]

[intro]
f*ck with this b*tch right here, jake
(d*mn, jakesand)
let’s go

[verse]
sittin’ on the work, d*mn, i ain’t know you copped a f*ckin’ seat
you can’t run it up, it ain’t no point to even have no feet
never seen a star, i got this lil’ b*tch in the room geeked
she thought i was slippin’, caught her tryna take the room key (never)
i’m a sh*tty boy, big dog sh*t militia, ho (sh*ttyboyz)
i know you be f*ckin’ other n*ggas, what you trippin’ for?
i can beat the price just like rocky, what you get it for?
always in my bag, never catch me in my feelings, though
she don’t suck no d*ck, she gettin’ kicked just like a f*ckin’ squeaker
d*mn, i got these b*tches goin’ crazy, feel like justin bieber
he was rappin’ all about that money but couldn’t cop a feature (lame)
she already had to double dribble, i ain’t had to teach her
game time, i’m ready, y’all n*ggas is petty
how the h*ll do you miss me, b*tch? you ain’t never even f*ckin’ met me
i wanna f*ck, she’ll let me (she will), quarter make her feel s*xy
he better think twice before we pop his ass like a pepsi (grrah)
i done shot the club up, i’m tryna k!ll the p*ssy
she the baddest b*tch i ever seen, she like, “daddy, whoop me”
can’t believe you braggin’ ’bout that sh*t, boy, you must want a cookie
no, i’m not no k!ller but, b*tch, you better not try to push me
i’m the kung fu panda, black crocs off the white buffs
we’ve been sh*ttin’ on ’em for some years, they don’t like us
i’ve been freestylin’ off the top, i don’t write much
been did that, that sh*t you doin’ don’t excite us
i be high as h*ll in the air, shannon brown sh*t
in the deep end but you scared, f*ckin’ clownfish
what the f*ck? chopper kickin’ on some f*ckin’ fourth down sh*t
i been lookin’ for a f*ck to give but haven’t found it (uh)
[outro]
y’all know y’all can’t f*ck with us, man, real sh*ttyboyz sh*t, sbdsm
whole gang lit, whole gang turnt (sh*t)
i don’t see no competition (sh*t, f*ck)
sh*ttyboyz, b*tch

- trdee

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