ain't f*ckin' wit me (feat. kristina leigh) - dead poet devil lyrics
ayo haters say they ain’t feelin phil but ain’t n0body got sk!lls that ill
we syllable k!llas yall sillacone fillas ain’t n0body illa real recognize real
i run up in the bank and i peel that till, mind go blank and i peel that steel
people like poet take a pill that chill but god keep tellin me to k!ll at will
i run this town, shut sh*t down i’m it motha f*cka you can come get clowned
suicide king had to come get crowned flow too complex gotta to dumb sh*t down
haters talk sh*t till my gun spit pow, cl!ck*clack*bang who’s the dumb sh*t now
eyes like a chinaman plus i’ma giant someone call the police tell em come get yao
wh0res that i’m f*ckin with are drop dead gorgeous topless sittin in a drop rеd porsches
pull up in front of my astounding fortress welcomе to the house of a thousand corpses
rep born star that’s b*s*e, ain’t no truck but ima gmc
cocaine bomb like tnt and i be doin big lines the dmv
devil and the dragon that’s d&d, wicked wildcard and d*m*p
money clothes hoes and the fans and the shows there ain’t nothin in the world like bein me
i hit pretty b*tches that are hard to f*ck, walk up in the bars and the stars get struck
got em bangin dead poet in their cars or truck put their mouth on a pipe full of shards and suck
you ain’t f*ckin with me [x4]
ayo people say they ain’t feelin poe but ain’t n0body got flows that dope
i murder these words never heard of you nerds got your girlfriends powderin her nose with coke
how in the f*ck are you blokes still broke all the money in the world you a joke still loc
car hotbox full of smoke will choke any ho give po a little stroke will poke
i spit spew venom six two two ten em, strays from the k rip through blue denim
mask and the gloves never knew who sent up run trains on the hoes let the choo*choo hit em
haters talk sh*t don’t know no better ain’t a sole in the world that can flow mo better
got hoes on my d*ck cuz i’m a doe go getter i play with her p*ssy make her soul glow wetter
ain’t none of yall cats even half on the level to be chasin the dragon or to dance with the devil
i slay when i rap stay strapped with the metal, do a drive*by gas smash on the petal
put the x in the cig up under my tongue, scorpion flow homie come and get stung
got the mini mac10 like i’m brotha lynch hung someone funeral music is gona get sung
lazy i guess that’s what god made me pickin up hookers at the truckstop daily
owe me money then it’s f*ck you pay me mom still wonder when her son got crazy
dark and melodic part psychotic doctors prescribing a psychotropic
rockin the mic like a psycho profit close to the edge and i might go off it
you ain’t f*ckin with me [x8]
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