Butter Songtext
(Thank you, Timmy boy)
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac', she like, "Where Drizzy?"
I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin' crash-out boy for real, I'm startin' to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain't diss back? He got his face cracked
Shooters puttin' BTA, I called him, "What's the ETA?"
FaceTime the route on 95, they doin' 360 kmh (Crash-out boys)
Load the vehicle up with choppas like a tank, that's how we ride
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac', she like, "Where Drizzy?"
I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin' crash-out boy for real, I'm startin' to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain't diss back? He got his face cracked
Shooters puttin' BTA, I called him, "What's the ETA?"
FaceTime the route on 95, they doin' 360 kmh (Crash-out boys)
Load the vehicle up with choppas like a tank, that's how we ride
I keep two shooters in the back, one on my hip, that's how we slide
High class pimpin'
Pushin' P-P, tried to wrestle me now he back to pushin' beef, a piеce-skie, thirty shots don't test mе
I put switches on my Glocks, you got the drop? I put the dot on 'em
Please don't ask me about a opp, I don't even know, I got a lot of them
Rick-y jeans, denim fabric, Denim Tears
I just got used Saint Laurent, Balenci on my underwear
Bipper of the year, don't rate me underatted; underground?
I ain't even get the spotlight yet, when I do it's goin' down (Crash-out business)
Crashin' out with all my crash-outs
I ain-I ain't know, nigga I just act out
Clean wock, no Tris', I'm 'bout to pass out
OD, oh gang that was a sad route
Get the back-end, cash it in, spin back around
Rest in peace to little Jeff, that blood a hound
Four deep, four sticks, four pounds
XD, Draco, [?]
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac', she like, "Where Drizzy?" I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin' crash-out boy for real, I'm startin' to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain't diss back? He got his face cracked
High class pimpin'
Pushin' P-P, tried to wrestle me now he back to pushin' beef, a piеce-skie, thirty shots don't test mе
I put switches on my Glocks, you got the drop? I put the dot on 'em
Please don't ask me about a opp, I don't even know, I got a lot of them
Rick-y jeans, denim fabric, Denim Tears
I just got used Saint Laurent, Balenci on my underwear
Bipper of the year, don't rate me underatted; underground?
I ain't even get the spotlight yet, when I do it's goin' down (Crash-out business)
Crashin' out with all my crash-outs
I ain-I ain't know, nigga I just act out
Clean wock, no Tris', I'm 'bout to pass out
OD, oh gang that was a sad route
Get the back-end, cash it in, spin back around
Rest in peace to little Jeff, that blood a hound
Four deep, four sticks, four pounds
XD, Draco, [?]
I just showed the bitch a Micro Drizzy Drac', she like, "Where Drizzy?" I drink lean and Percocets and Xanax bars, forgot my kidneys
I'm a zombie walkin' crash-out boy for real, I'm startin' to hate rap
Why the fuck you think the nigga ain't diss back? He got his face cracked
