I Want His Soul

Ion fuck with hoes cause all of dem bops

Thats a bitch nigga tryna drop when I drop

You a fuck nigga tryna pop when I pop

I want them new shoes I'm Finna Go cop

Tryna steal from the store my bitch ass got caught

This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop

Fuck that job been around that block

Tryna save my bros but they came with a flock

Im rich now I can hop on the doc

We blowing his brains you ask its that glock

Scary ass nigga gon bang then knock

A scary ass nigga I just cannot

like my text I gotta stop then jot

I was helping you back then you must of forgot

Lost you but you aint lost me bye

wrote my first song when I like was six

My mama found the paper and shit

it was something about a traphouse

Something my mama had took me in and out

Weed blowing it was a lot of niggas

all had guns real drug dealers

Told my mama that I was a killer

Smart enough to not throw a body in the river

first singer imma bring out bryson tiller

 

I want his soul

Sit em down in a row

The car fast on all fours

bitch mad kick in the door

trapbaby now you know

Real killer from the go

two thousand per show

 

Hoes mad cause I aint in shit

Talk to me get rid of this

bitch bad she really lit

doing splits and all we really lit

Im big but you the biggest bitch

Trigger being pulled, niggers in a ditch

Fat sack of knives in the passenger side, bitch

A few niggas talk but they do without knowledge

You so f-full of your-s-self that you just sit and judge

Got squares, dark squares cover my luggage

 

I want his soul

Sit em down in a row

The car fast on all fours

bitch mad kick in the door

trapbaby now you know

Real killer from the go

two thousand per show