Cam Meekins feat. Trama #Fuckyourbitch Lyrics
I told them I would kill it
They tried to put a hit out
Bitch, I'm young livin'
Old folks, get out
Somewhere in the iz-air
Up in the smoke cliz-out
I get high so much
That all my pickups are a piz-out
I'm on this, I got this
Sittin' on some profits
I'm chilling on the beach
With Martha Stewart and some stock tips
You last year like rocks
I'm this year like this year
My future's looking bright
So I say it's looking crystal clear
I'm so sweet like Krispy Kreme
5 of 6 up in the beam
Drivin' down I-95
Bitch, I'm headed to the bean
I got what your hating on
Dawg, I'm what you try to be
So keep goin' like free throwin'
Cause I'm all up behind the three
I'm with your girl up in your bed
All those lines are kind of dead
It's true, I'm actually fucking her
Forget all of those lines I said
I'm known to be a king;
I was born to be a czar
But all these people looking at me
Like I'm going to mow their lawn
Well fuck that. I'm outty
I'm outty like an Audi
I'm outty like an inny
Man, I'm outty out in Maui
With some girlies on my nuts
Like I'm a rap star or something
And their trying to take me home
But I just want to make some muffins
Cause I'm high as fuck, bong the ripper??
You're the loser, I'm the winner
And my girlie got that ass
Bet it's thicker than a Snicker
My life's bling, your wife changed
In my bed, life change
We fucked all in the football stands
Called that shit a night game
I'm smokin' on that light green
It burns down to this white
That good stuff can do that
Dawg, look it up, cause I'm right!
W w w dot suck my dick
Hashtag fuck your bitch
Got that Colin Powell money
Semicolon, I'm rich, bitch!
Period, I'm kickflippin'
Shoelaces, my vans, trippin'
I'm fallin' over, I'm drizzy drunk
Mike Jones, still tippin'
I got these kids at my show
Smokin' weed up in the crowd
Security can't kick them out
We burn this mother fucker down!
We lamp until she turn me off
Get it? Lamps? Turn it off?
I treat my girl like luxury
Call that chick a foreign car
I'm sicker than a common cold
Sicker than being kind of old
Fuck these little bitches
Who've got one flow, they kind of blow
I got that, I don't need a hook
Like hand fishing, don't need a hook
English class, I'm in this bitch
Best believe it, I don't read a book
I keep my joints stuffed
Like you never check the mail
That last line was braille
So stay out of my business
This ain't show and tell