10 Minutes Of Shit Talking

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10:15

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Yeah, yeah
Why you talking shit, we all know you lame
Tore out the coupe, yeah, it got a new brain
Ran up that bag quick, I feel like Usain
I just ran up a hundred thousand
Up in a mansion, used to stay in public housing
Yeah, bro said he gon' pull up, some shit I'm doubting, yeah
All this drip on me, pray to god I'm never drowning
Bro said he finna get lil' bro whacked, I don't doubt it
Yeah I really want them racks, give a f*ck 'bout being clouted
I got too much damn money, I can't even fucking count it
Teachers used to bump my music in gym and accounting
Who is him that be talking and doubting? Shut the f*ck up
Brand new GLE, tell my assistant pick my truck up
Way too much ice but I ain't never seen a puck once
How you say you getting cash but you go and tuck ones
Yo ass scared to get robbed, I got a pole lil' bitch
Dunking on these bitches like Zion, I play for NOLA bitch
Bro sipping Wock all day, don't even own a script
Up at the house kicking back, me and Capone we lit
Watch that Rollie gliss, it's hitting off the fucking clock
I think yo ass really gay, you stay on my cock
You ain't really know me bitch, why the f*ck you on my block
Think you gon' catch the hands but you gon' catch the fucking glock
10 songs a day, I'm the number one hit maker
Why you talking 'bout racks, bitch, you don't get paper
Drop racks right at Somerset, take a trip later
Blowing racks, lil' bitch, I ain't a big saver
Used to simp for some bitches, nowadays they the ones I dub
At home making these racks, won't hit no fucking club
You think you really racked but you can't f*ck with us
Pistol in my pants all times, no one I fucking trust
You getting passed, I'm in that SRT hitting a hundred
He be talking the most shit, when we pull up he get to running
Pissed at Benito's like why the f*ck it's bussing
Pissed at these lame bitches like why the f*ck you ducking
Pissed off on the fucking highway, y'all suck at driving
Why the f*ck you talk 'bout pulling up, man, you suck at sliding
Diamonds hitting off the fucking chain, these hoes fucking vibrant
I'ma do what I want, don't need yo fucking guidance
Yeah, yeah, living like a goat
Chain ice on water, it be hitting, watch it float
I'ma go run up that bag, get what I'm getting, then I go
In a fucking Trackhawk, in a minute get a ghost
Yeah, yeah, the fucking Rolls Royce
Ran it up had no choice
Why the f*ck you acting like you loud but make no noise
Why the f*ck you talking yo shit in a low voice
Right in front of that bag, bitch I'm so poised
Right in front of that bag, bitch I ain't stopping now
If it's the slightest fucking challenge, you opting out
Hit 'em with that overhand right, it knocked him out
Balenciaga on me, yeah, that's the shit we copping now
I ain't even top 3, lil' bitch, I'm number one
Feel like DJ Khaled, make a hit then make another one
Diamonds on my chain, hitting harder than the summer sun
My bag so fucking huge, that bitch is cumbersome
You want the ones or some? Nah, you don't want no smoke
We be up in first, you in last, you a slowpoke
Bitch I got the AR, glocky what my bro tote
Wrist on fucking water but we don't got no boat
Told lil' bitch I need a yacht
He be talking hella tough until he get got
We be running up the bags, getting cheese a lot
Yeah, we at the fucking top, got to keep it locked
My bro keep a glock
Yeah, keep it for protection
Yeah, you ain't in the fucking spot, yeah, you ain't in the section
And my arms damn near fucking hurt from all this damn flexing
Like I said before when I walk in they feel my presence
Hopping in a Hellcat or Track, this ain't a Lexus
Get his ass beat but I ain't talking 'bout no Nexus
Bro was cracking cards, he was boosting, flexing
Bro went scored the drank right out of Houston, Texas
I'm on VIP, you ain't even on the guest list
That bitch she a two, how the f*ck is that yo best bitch
Making bands right at the house, Breaking Bad on Netflix
Bitch I'm known to kill any beat, bitch I'm relentless
They can go and switch, I give no fucks, I expect it
Why the f*ck you ran up bands if you don't flex it
Why the f*ck you rocking Nike, you don't check shit
How the f*ck is that hooptie yo best whip
Flexing on yo family and everyone you friends with
Cartiers on me, couple bands for my lens bitch
Yeah, in a truck, yeah, go and have that ten switch
Mud in bro cup, yeah, his number one beverage
Beverage the Wocky, the Tris, the Activis
You ain't really getting bands, why the f*ck you acting rich
Why you talking hot, in real life you a pacifist
If I got the ball, bitch I'm scoring, I ain't passing shit
SRT engine it's roaring, you get passed lil' bitch
Diamonds on my chain, they be flooded, yeah, they had to gliss
My bag so fucking big, you couldn't even imagine it
Chilling with my twin in Trackhawks, we got matching whips
Told bro pull out yo Rollie, we got matching wrists
You be having lil' racks, you ain't having this
Hop up in a SRT, I race it with the baddest bitch
This a AR, bitch I got the fattest stick
You a fan lil' bitch, why you trying to talk shit
Walking up in Somerset but you ain't really bought shit
Feel like Rick Ross, walk around on boss shit
Think I want some new 'lencis, what they cost bitch
1,140, need a crib eleven stories
Only one bitch that I want, you'll never catch me up on Maury
Put my phone on DND now I be feeling just like Vory
Need to stay in yo own lane, yeah, not talking Tory
What's yo story, why you act like a bitch
I ain't stressing, bitch I'ma cop it if I like the whip
Really I'm just shit talking, because I like the shit
Snap harder than any one of y'all on the mic, lil' bitch
I been playing around I need to cop the Neumann
Why the f*ck you talking about blicks, you ain't never shooting
Why the f*ck you talking 'bout shit that was never proven
I only talk about wins because I'm never losing
Never take a L, bitch, I'm a born winner
Kill you if you run up, I'm a sure sinner
Eat this beat up, so hungry I need like four dinners
We in a Trackhawk, you more like a Ford spinner
You won't catch me in a F1, catch me in a lamb
Why the f*ck you talking like my bro, no he not my mans
They be talking shit all day but I know they fans
They be talking shit like they coming up but I know they can't
What's the plan, take over the globe
Beat his ass, got the hands, feel like Glover, I'm cold
In New York I be shopping, hit Dover fasho
Won't stop, keep snapping, it ain't over, no no
Yeah, bitch, hell nah, not stopping, until I'm dead
Laser on this bitch green, but the dot red
He ain't really fucking with my team, he ain't got bread
Bro popped him a bean now his face is hot red
Bro said if they try to run up they get shot dead
You be pouring Tussin, that shit not red
Bitch brain so retarded but she not sped
I'm finna win, lil' bitch, that's what god said
Yeah, I'm finna win, I can't ever lose
Lot of people switching on they brothers, shit I'd never do
Met you twenty times but I still don't even remember you
Don't really give no fucks, f*ck you if I offended you
I don't need a friend lil' dude, chilling with the whole gang
Why you talking shit, do you know that you a no name
Why you talking hot, do you know that you got no game
Why you acting tough, do you know that you is so lame
Bro came and went, I'm staying at the top
Only making hits that's what they playing when I drop
Lil' bro what the f*ck you said, what you saying to the cops
You is not my fucking brother, you been hanging with my opps
Yeah, yeah, that's some hoe shit
Went to Icebox, put some diamonds on both wrists
Talking like a know it all but you don't know shit
How the f*ck yo fit ten bands and you got no drip
Man I'm so sick, like I got the flu hoe
Chilling with the same team, I don't got no new bros
Lot of new sticks I done went and copped some new poles
You chilling in that whip with yo twin, I see two hoes
Yeah, 'cause y'all both some real bitches
If you want to see some money, come with me see real digits
Man my money up on giant, yo money real midget
Y'all be talking all that shit but tell m

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