You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three
I'm low-key but my skill is still seen like a memory
Pull up on these 26’s, i’m a vanity slave
Rain from my game reign, all i see are lame names,
My real names grim but you can call me reaper,
And i'm not bragging, i'mma be in her
And i need my turkey gravy and i need my kitty cat
Where maino at? in my new whip with the same old strap
It'll have you yelling names the bible tells you not to say
And that little nigga nigga, thinks its okay
And that was when i was in the eighth grade
Eatin' all the rappers, got their names on my plate
Not whether you can shot a key,
No smilescause ain't a thing funny
Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree
I’m tryna be low key to keep my self out of t
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