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child's play - zyon maye lyrics

[verse 1]
p*ssy n*gga, get in the field, b*tches still can’t hit the left lane
she wanna play chess, but the b*tch can’t even check mate
wanna go against me but the b*tch can’t even check me
hoes wanna take the quiz, but her ass can never test me
you can’t f*ck with me, b*tch, even on ya worst day
i don’t got no bots, my sh*t be on replay
bow down to the sword, b*tch, i’m your f*ckin’ sensei
and i’m peggin’ these n*ggas like we in the f*ckin’ uk
likе a booger in her nose, b*tchеs know not to pick with me
you not apart of our table, b*tch, you cannot come sit with me
say you livin’ my dream, but you lookin’ about fifty
you all about your money, but your racks really on mini*me’s

[chorus]
this is child’s play, b*tch, orange bob to f*ck the world up
i got a toast for these b*tches, so put your f*ckin’ cups up
he tryna f*ck on ol’ girl, but she told me you was uncut
but the doc’ is in office, so let’s get your ass a check up

[verse 2]
say you got the versatility but don’t have the ability
you b*tches are my daughters, yeah, i got a bunch of mini me’s
i’m the best b*tch around so you cannot come get rid of me
and that’s word to mrs. minaj, b*tch, i’m the one and only
i got these b*tches pushin’ pens but they still not on they writer sh*t
it’s their not there, ho, you not on your writer sh*t
quit your career while you can ’cause you is not a writer b*tch
surrounded by these fat*ass stacks, yet i’m still on my lighter sh*t
hoes obsessed with me, on my mc tip
b*tches wait for me to drop, grab they pens for tips
b*tch, you argue over n*ggas, ho, get a grip
and i’m busy stackin’ bread while you b*tches stackin’ chips
b*tch, need to leave me alone, you my son, you a clone
i don’t do much of the talkin’, b*tch, i’ll get you gone like al capone
i’m sittin’ on my throne, your n*ggas on a tombstone
all these hoes lookin’ for me like find my f*ckin’ iphone
yeah, i’m on that n*gga roaster but we will never f*ck again
b*tch, we don’t look alike so why you callin’ me yo’ twin?
rap b*tch, popstar in the makin’
and you don’t got no brain so why the f*ck you thinkin’?
i break down my f*ckin’ bars, decomposer
b*tch, why you actin’ out? keep your composer
all these fake*ass marys, you a poser
and my fans comin’ to me like they want a photo
[chorus]
this is child’s play, b*tch, orange bob to f*ck the world up
i got a toast for these b*tches, so put your f*ckin’ cups up
he tryna f*ck on ol’ girl, but she told me you was uncut
but the doc’ is in office, so let’s get your ass a check up

[outro]
so let’s get your ass a check up
ugh, yo
z*y*o*n maye

- zyon maye lyrics

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