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24 hours - landbreaker, the boys lyrics

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those aren’t peaches, b*tch
those are apples, b*tch
and when i bag your mom
she on her gaggle sh*t
to h*ll with it
i’m h*lla rich
but if she ain’t paying for dinner
then i’ll smack the b*tch, smack the b*tch

hippopotamus
my lunch is bottomless
thirty on dinners while you’re staying profitless
it’s off its tits
we never miss
i’m funding single moms who buy their kids chicken sausages

whoa, mully easy there
sorry about my friend, everyone, he can be a little crazy sometimes
but now it’s timе for your favorite narrator, the wholesomе boy
to bring it back to ya

hola, it’s me, your mexicano friend
one*fifth of the boys, till the end
we bringing you this song while we sipping and pouring
took your lunch money while you’re snoozing and snoring
heard you were talking sh*t
i think that’s kinda lame
now i’m at your front door
on my sssniperwolf game no shame
cuz she got money and fame
hope she don’t end up broke
like boogie2988
i only speak the truth
i’m in the vocal booth
i’ll teach you how to build a f*cking wall and climb it too
you punks think it’s all a farce
till i spit these f*cking bars
take a look at the accolades
b*tch i wanna see your face when i hit the
charts, charts, charts, charts charts

sitting with the w*lly
i’ma spit thim with the rhythm
all the lyrics gonna feed them
and i’ma spit him with the venom
i become a f*cking villain
take a seat under the ceiling
break it to you until you feel it
you just thought i went to heaven
i be rapping and flowing
and making music i be growing
and showing these motherf*ckers who the king is
then keep on going
and i’m throwing these lyrical punches
and i never stop until the sun is glowing

i got rice, beans, potatoes, tomatoes, tortillas, y caldos de pollo con puerco
it’s your mexican boy trying to get some papers
it’s juicy
got a lotta lotta lotta that
thinking that i should call her back
too much time out here talking smack
i know that my boys got my back
so like a million dollars in socks
even talk to me about your penny stocks

i, i, i, i need to charge my car
my tesla model s cannot keep up with these cars
i have to weigh my wallet but i won’t pay for winrar
and when i f*ck i burn more rubber
then a f*cking nascar
d*d*d*d*mn b*tch. this track is bussin
tr*tr*trippin on the beat like its robitussin

is that your girl blushing
dripping like cheap plumbing? (shiiit)
even ben shapiros wife’s gushin, wife’s gushin

i stay up all night when i’m writing and recording
my cocaine is so white police let it go with a warning
my girlfriend is my sock and yes i can endorse this
like an autistic kid with a glock you can call me special forces

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