Urrrge!!!! Songtext

Yeah (Don't, don't)
Don't make me untie my durag (Don't, don't)
Don't make me send yo' ass to the gulag (Don't, don't)
Don't make me open up my new bag (New bag)
Don't make me hit it off like food stamps (Food stamps)
You ain't mad at me, that's hormones, bitch
Takin' beans out the bag like corn, ho, bitch
Mask on face, I ain't Zorro
Fuckin' on dude lookin' like Antonio, bitch
Never sign nothin' who sold you those, bitch?
Let me build my portfolio, bitch

Gotta fight the urge
Fight the urge to talk my shit
Fight the urge to fuck yo' bitch
Fight the urge to keep gettin' rich
Fight the—
Fight, fight, fight the urge
Gotta fight the urge to keep gettin' rich, ah
Cross that line, it's a flat-line
And you out of time like a deadline
Somebody gon' bleed red wine
If a nigga step on my landmine
Hope my guys don't face (Fed time)
A renaissance god, I'm like [?]
Speak my mind, it's another headline
This blood look orange. Call him "Dev Hynes" (Woo)
I don't wear ESSENTIALS 'cause I'm quintessential
Influential on the instrumental
I'm intricate, the flow sentimental
I'm unconventional, the GRIM is mental

Yeah, I look like Thugnificent
Will someone tell the judge I'm innocent
I peep how they tried to cancel him
Then resubscribe for the membership

Fight the urge
Make them bite the curb
Might just strike a nerve
Not the type to wife a bird
I just might just buy a spur
So I can write your curse
Pop a nerve
I heard you like to swerve
Ha-ha-ha (swerve, swerve, swerve, swerve)

Gotta fight the urge
Fight the urge to talk my shit
Fight the urge to fuck yo' bitch
Fight the urge to keep gettin' rich
Fight the—
Fight, fight, fight the urge
Gotta fight the urge to keep gettin' rich, ah

Loced out, pistol grip in the trunk, stunt blunt
Got me doing some stupid shit, monkey bitches make me click
Loced out, pistol grip in the trunk, stunt blunt
Got me doing some stupid shit, monkey bitches make me click