2 fah 1 bo-berry brandon biscuit special - $ilkmoney lyrics
[intro]
my n*gga, i’m glad you said this, i’m glad you have that position
[verse 1]
we don’t believe you
you need more people, give a f*ck if we came from the same claim, lil’ n*gga, we not equals
balloon sucking depleacher cerebral turning your brain into a swiss cheese pool
you a prankster, drug addict [reboot?] and for that, with this pen, i’ll play max keeble
[?] i see you spreading salacious hatred like a b*tch i f*cked on a beach cruise
then hopped on live off some lines, begging for the god to leap out and tweet you
sh*t is pitiful, your pockets f*cked up, but over hеre, sh*t is plentiful
you tried to piеce it up behind scenes and even say, “shoutout $ilk” in that weak ass interview
but i get it, dude, you quit chicken flipping and started whippet hitting, then got addicted and threw a fit
‘cause the sh*t with rocky won’t cl!ckin’ then smirch the god for attention
you was suckin’ my d*ck for almost ten years
almost as long as your b*tch you currently with was sucking trey d*ck in the $20/night cavalier, you f*ckin’ dumb blonde
can it, brandon, your career face planted so you threw a temper tantrum, started scamming fans for merch pre*orders to get your fix demanded
how could they ever trust you again?
i know i wouldn’t believe a word a junkie said, he’ll steal the tv out your house just to puncture your skin
sehay’s a eater, say, “hi, nice to meet you,” with the meat cleaver you used to cut the chicken into equal parts
before dropping you in the grease and cleaning you with the de*greaser
ain’t talked to this n*gga since he left the group
and ever since, it’s been twitter distance, indiscriminate lyrics and pretending to be lucki’s spoof
the love of your life is just a sl*t with a price
after bari hit, she sucked trey d*ck and he ain’t even wanna f*ck ‘cause he said the p*ssy smelled like sh*t, n*gga
all my n*ggas legit, that bullsh*t you tryna spin will never stick
birds of a feather flock together, that’s why n*ggas tweet like pigeons with scripted fiction tellings
n*ggas dropping pre*recorded tracks and callin’ them disses
i rolled a spliff and pinned the scripture of my mom’s kitchen while eating the grit, she so gracious, n*gga
this n*gga’s burnt out, fell off, his whole roll out a fake tell all, and all them drugs already beating your ass and getting you stepped on
this a spiritual lyrical warfare
the god body versus the part*time chicken distributor, lucki and carti hard copy that hang women over balconies
you a fraud and everything you talk is a fallacy
he really mad about between him and his b*tch, she the only one with all the bodies he claim to be catching for streams
[verse 2]
for surely, i get him gladly
package rap, black baggy then ship back to the past when you made good beats actually
you can’t destroy what you didn’t build
but in your case, we gave you the sk!ll
and the sound that you claim, it came from kahlil
you couldn’t roll a blunt until you f*cked with us, n*gga
now you just a junky [?], it’s such a shame that once was said to be legend now was just a f*cking bum
you [had?] to sell that funky b*tch you with to pay the rent and get a bag of fent
the b*tch was so predictable i’d do a whippet too if i wasn’t having sh*t
your mom should be ashamed of your actions, kid
but i’d never disrespect that woman that had absolutely no adding to your current manufactured taxes of grabbing d*ck
i’m feeling a bit savvy
been waiting for war as i sharpen my sword on the steel of your casket
make a cold p*ssy revert backwards to when you were kassper, n*gga
but you the new jackson
hanging b*tches over balcony your new passion
spreading lies on twitter and beefing with n*ggas your claim to fame and it’s truly saddening
but what the f*ck you expect from a n*gga named after p*ssy?
n*gga, you never had no p*ssy until you had the p*ssy every n*gga done had and then after, you took it
talkin’ about we burnin’ sh*t
and if we is, we probably got it from your b*tch, since we just lying for cl!cks
i believe for certain brandon, esteem curtains
or whatever you want to use to hang yourself with and hover over the surface
the percs got you hurt, itching, livin’ with no purpose and then uncertain
i’m in the very same loaf i went to church with
just to personally deliver you with this sermon that your desire so passionately burned with
thank you, brandon
[outro]
ay, thank you, n*gga
you b*tch ass n*gga, suck my motherf*ckin’ d*ck, p*ssy ass motherf*cker
i ain’t gon’ tell ‘em, i ain’t gon’ tell ‘em you p*ssy, n*gga, i’mma just keep it between me and you, b*tch ass n*gga
it’s the god, baby
g.o.d
it’s me
they say, “the good die young,” n*gga
that’s why i’mma live forever, n*gga, i’m magnificent, b*tch ass n*gga
ain’t no more motherf*ckin’ divine council, n*gga
that sh*t motherf*ckin’ dead from this day fourth, b*tch ass motherf*ckers
it’s dbsb, 3272
g*l*o*b*e, a*b*b
forever and always, baby, yours truly
i love you
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