'Cookies' Freestyle

Nigga, I love cookies.

 

I respect yo shit unfully.

At full-speed I thrust in pussy.

Might call the jury to peace treat.

Can't view you uniquely.

 

Post shit for the game routinely, then dissapear like Houdini.

I feel like Diddy.

 

No, shit, I mean in my wildest dreams, to say that I'd need rye whiskey,

Chug it at a flying speed, make my ass fumble blindingly,

 

Where does gen jeezy live?

That nice barely-city, my g.

He's fucked up, obesity, my nigga.

He try to fuck, he ain't go deep.

He try to rap, his bars ain't sleek.

I'm rhymin', prayin', hopin' he leaves.

I'm dyin', my nigga.

 

Fuck Beyonce, ain't no bee queen, because of...

And fuck the Jay z, nigga up with diddy and with Epstein.

He call out hits for his wife now cuz his friend didn't like biggie.

Still he's a bitch and ill, destroyed by nas, and still get dick riding.

 

Shit ain't even excited, I'm cryin', took many a years hitchhikin'

Now you niggas remindin' of hobos, gangsters you're describin'?

Some bitches just ain't invited, you're better off going into hiding

 

At midnight, you'd get to feelin' your iris as

blood pour out from a gun shot wound to the side of the head

Your other one fell out, you're legally, medically called 'empty in the head'

Braindead, little bitch.