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choke on my - 2019 - 704 prod lyrics

i swear i’ve changed (it’s just a persona. it’s just a persona!)
i don’t understand why people even like my music when it’s not even me
am i considered the illest yet?
is these p*ssy hoes up out they feelings yet?
has a n*gga stacked his first million yet? (nah?)
well guess who feel effected?
you n*ggas all talk on the internet
talk sh*t pretend you just some critic*head
when you’re really on mе with an ill intent
live your best lifе, i just ain’t k!ll you yet, b*tch
choke on my d*ck, n*gga
’til your throat column split, n*gga
i’ma bogart this b*tch, n*gga (yuh!)
i’ma own all this sh*t n*gga (yuh!)
what you hoes call a monopoly, i’ma hold all the keys to this sh*t, n*gga
go call police, i’ma blow walls just so prod achieves what you know as the “goat” calling
please hold both b*lls and choke on ’em, please
i don’t like you n*ggas, nah
i won’t fight you n*ggas nah
i’ma stack bread and pay your opps to snipe you from afar
i don’t like you in my sight and i don’t like you in my comms
i’m not type to stay in calm
i’m not the type to stay with cons
nah them n*ggas ain’t my crowd
6ix9ine already tried it and he gone, b*tch
(hey, hey, yo chill on that n*gga)
if i don’t blow, this ain’t makin no sense
i deserve stadium tix and some food in bed like hospital patients and sh*t
sponsored up, i won’t be paying for sh*t
and watch what you say little b*tch
one complaint and i’ll be takin your b*tch
she give f*ll*tio lips while she forwards your calls so they go to static like some radio blips
y’all can choke on my d*ck, dawg, or drown
the wrist watch is wet. yo b*tch watch me close and simp on me
s*x isn’t on my list of sh*t that impress me
get off my d*ck and cl!ck on my songs
my sh*t prolly hit way different than sh*t y’all is used to
hits topping hits, my sh*t go abusive. i’m sick, dawg, submit me to the hall of music
where the beef? ’cause ima eat it up
grill you n*ggas while i’m cheesing, huh
p*ssy n*ggas i’ma beat ’em up
met your b*tch and now we meeting up
all these n*ggas always hating on me. i’ma give ’em a reason, huh
b*tch i’m straight out this world, yuh
take me to your f*ckin leader, bruh
yea b*tch, i’m sl!ck with the words. beef, get cooked like i’m greasy, huh
b*tch hit my phone for d*ck but i don’t ever give a f*ck, ’cause why i need to, huh?
n*ggas always wanna talk sh*t, boss sh*t, ’til i have ’em screaming, huh
best out period. i ain’t even hit you p*ssy, why you bleeding, huh?
i don’t even need to blow up. i make these b*tch n*ggas f*cking scream enough
ever let a n*gga cross me, get crucified like he jesus, huh
bruh, the craziest sh*t about this, yo
is that it a literally took me a f*cking day
it took me a day to learn how to make beats
a day. i made everything from scratch
it took me, it took me a f*cking day
and if you don’t wanna say a day, it took me a week, bruh
there’s n*ggas who spend, like, years learning how to make beats
and i’m making this sh*t in a day
i’m so f*cking talented! oh my*

- 704 prod lyrics

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