MS6

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Worst Generation

3:54

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Aye, turn me up
Turn me up
What, what
Dr. Dre, chronic pain on my grave
East PA, Jersey on me like I'm Dr. J
Fill the room
Flower bloom smoke you out
Potent punch, hear the bell KO down no count
Still like Drac hit the street like Jack I'm a ripper to ya misses
Turn her to a mistress feeling like Jax when I knock a nigga back
Rip the pussy like I'm Drax when I eat her like a snack
Who lacking bitch I'm a dragon in the back
Jack long on a Brenda song deck like Zack where my Cody at
Suite life so nice mint condition I'm pristine
Pussy on me for the week, breath smell like Listerine
So fresh so clean so fresh so clean

Andre for the fiends three stack for the P
Big whore for the green you do not know where I be
Photo genes in my tree picture point to the cheese
Grating hoes for the free splinters all over yo cheeks
She was riding all over the dick, you know that she for clique
Power ranger for the team black ranger make her bleed

Bad bitch on my big dick
Smoking high we get lifted, another nigga on a mission
Whoah, run it back, talking shit I ain't listen
Cooking up in the kitchen ya girl mouth I pissed in

Do em dirty like a piston
Detroit baby motor vixen
Motor city way I'm whipping
Dissing
Silenced
Walk-in
Riot
Talking that smack
Run it back
Can I, kick it, spit it, dig it golden, ticket
Back
Pose, pick it bitches, livid
Fake it? I live it, live it, live it
Back
Can I, kick it spit it, dig it golden, ticket
Back
Pose, pick it, bitches, livid
Fake it? I live it, live it, live it

Don't pray to god, pray to the bass
808 hit make a nigga heart break
Hit on the drop make a nigga heart stop
Tried to tell me turn it down before the neighbors call the cops
Put that into tune the lost gon feel me like static shock
Keep talking, let him walk in, pole on me somebody get shot

Fa
Yea, yea yea hah
Tell that diamond wrecking huh
Tell that bitch huh
Out my section, frozen cold
Slo-mo wrist whip, wait one second
Count my gold huh four leaf clove huh
Hella blessings
Know I'm finna kick shit, boy watch
We talkin big clips, no opps
Hizzy so wicked, flow boss, huh
Boy it's getting hot hot right now
Leave em to rot rock white gown
Boy getting popped fa like bow

Hit that boy Indy
Then run up them digits
I said you won't get it by fucking with bitches
I burn down the label I burn all them bridges
I bust up they faces need staple and stitches

Staples and stitches for niggas cause niggas don't listen
I'm sending disses through bars like it's prison
Fat boy mad we call the boy Peter Griffin, bullets gon hit him
Hit that boy with precision
I'm ambidex with that pistol I'm gripping
Clip laced with acid it got that boy tripping

Got that boy
Got that boy uh
Stuck in the lab, plussing the stats
I'm heavy hitting niggas like a bag
Ok his trigger finger getting mad
That's cause he missing figures why you ass
We mowing snakes out the grass lil nigga so stay on your path
I'm yanking the chord now you getter get

Back
Can I, kick it, spit it, dig it, golden, ticket
Back
Pose, pick it, bitches, livid
Fake it? I live it live it, live it
Back

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