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game 5 - 7øsaka lyrics

[part 1]
aye, yuh, and i got a knife to his throat
like interrogation, like anything he say recorded and reviewed in post
and it’s been determined that every bar in that muhf*ckin diss was a joke
get 2 tha green he was dissin me but he was vague wit it, you’d never know

he really too p*ssy to say my name, and that song just goes to show it
something seems off bout the people in austin, i think it’s the size of their noses
i p*ssed a houston b*tch off so bad, she blocked me and i barely noticed causе
i got a hunnid the exact same b*tch, was flеxing latinas before it

go listen my old sh*t, i talked about hoes in it
and i was 15 making that, i really ain’t changed after all this
austin, take all his disses like steaming sh*t sat on your doorstep
bossin, i’ll see the day that he turn to a broke b*tch

oh wait, he been a broke b*tch since back in the past tense
we hit a u turn when we slide, like we drove past it
he said he’d slide but never showed, got in an accident
oh wait, he told me he can’t drive, he prolly walkin’ then

work work work, go for a swim, you smellin’ like fish or somethin’
how come you ain’t never gone on a two man with cole, ain’t you twins or somethin’?
slapped him like a fin or somethin’, he gon’ fold quick like a dumpling
new generation moves, my big body truck droppin’ sivs from above ’em
i make a p*ssyboy croak, angelina, his b*tch collect bones
ain’t sh*t sweet in the winter up north, ain’t sh*t weak when osaka drop notes
ain’t no sweatin’ when i walk around, my ice keep me cold like snowin’
everything cute in the place he from ’round, he ain’t know a threat if it posed one

[part 2]
shhh, i think i can hear a little broke boy from austin
he talking his sh*t but the last i remember, i beefed with his ass, added one to his losses
he talm bout lighting a cig wit my name, canadian classics must be what he talkin
i’m number one b*tch, you hunnid sumn b*tch, in numbers and funds, know i’d win at an auction

on god, i’m tired of seeing you broke but in music you rich, it’s all a facade
he keep an airsoft on his hip, up north, you p*ssy or carry a rod
the law of projection, say i don’t get hoes, but you really just sad bout your flaws
whenever i put on ya sh*t, i just hear b*tchin’, you nicki minaj

i, fly ‘cross the globe, first class seats, you fly a charter, you a fraud
your bars really sh*tty, they ain’t cuttin’ deep, like scalpel, i’m his #1 opp
i doubt he’ll respond to this sh*t with a diss, but i had to come test my odds
he say that the 7s is h0m* but i seem to recall he sent nudes to my squad

i promise the moment i step down in austin im spinnin ya sh*t like a cog
you puttin my sh*t on the speaker while you and cole fiddle with each others c*cks
you barked on the wrong wood, muhf*cka, you ridin the d*ck of a dawg
you stay with the sneak disses, my boy, i’ll listen when you drop a song
about me, the choppas hit harder in austin
and i got my whole d*mn city up north on ya ass, your next move got millions watching
i fly cross the globe and they still know my name, call that international bossin’
i’ll fly down to arkansas b*tch, go see your dads sided cousins

like this was a muhf*ckin knife to ya chest, i stab your ass, you getting bludgeoned
how can you leave without hoes when you say that you brought all your funds to the function?
and how can you deal with your bros when they dropping better sh*t then you so often?
and you dropping sh*t on the soundcloud only, you don’t even own the rights to your melodies

you don’t even know the half of my memories
you ain’t even heard the half of my dirt on him
he just a rat with a ciggy addiction, a biggie type silhouette, cheap ass clothes on him
i really wish he’d get his bros with him
i really wish i could just go at em
unfortunately i gotta be nice, he still getting over the russian b*tch ghosting him

i can see tears rolling all down his cheeks, i see both pairs cause he shows me em
every one of his hoes that’s listening, just know the nudes that you’ve sent, i seen most of ’em
sharing is caring, and he only care bout the bros, these b*tches mean nun to him
but then he go talk to a b*tch irl and he tellin’ me how he done froze on ’em

he nervous as sh*t, he boasting bout unreal sh*t but he really just broke and sh*t
my fit come from ricks, jordan 4 military blues on my feet for the kicks
hudson a b*tch, and cole is a b*tch, and siv really full of those sh*ts
t7 clique up and stu up, but what i do solo, get rid of em
mass graves, huh, i had to dig me a whole d*mn pit of em
if he had some pictures of me spamming then maybe he’d go ahead and post em
and i ain’t gon lie, there was a bar in that 7k sh*t that was factual
every song he been on he flew, right past the charts cause i’m just better than ’em

i hit the 6ix just to celebrate 2015, when the jays wiped the rangers off map
and i’m finna hotbox the coupe that he said he’d slide on us in, and send it right back
and i’m finna roast him again and again till he finally say that he ass
and i’m finna wipe that boy right off the map, muhf*ckin squeegee his ass, like, ugh

- 7osaka lyrics

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