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god to this shit - lîl høllöw lyrics

i’m a ‘god to this sh-t’ homie what chu f-ckin mean? i’m just back and i’m lit and i’m packin major green, get stabbed in hip and get bashed by my team, never talkin to a fed or man i get a casualty, man i f-ck her while she wet and dude i get that p-ssy creamed, man i roll up on her sticky but that p-ssy really clean, man i drop a dab up in the rig and feel her p-ssy steam, if i even i drop a bar dude her p-ssy scream, it pushing streams, i’m rude wit my common sense, i rule wit my dominance, it’s cruel i’m on top of it, no cool when it comes to spit, your jewels are irrelevant, i grew on concrete sahara sh-t, i pull out the choppa b-tch that sh-t look like a elephant, in the whip, wit a fifth, and i’m detriment, got your b-tch, on the d-ck, and it f-ckin long and sh-t, if your sick? write a script, man i ain’t no pharmacist, roll a swish, take a hit, your joint look like a baby d-ck, blow a kiss, to your miss, then i bet she want my fist, drop some ‘cid, in a vacant crib, while i’m breakin stick, and i’m bakin quick, i aim to rip, don’t angle it, i prayed for this, so let’s take a trip, no major tips, in this gang of lips, i make a list, and i’ll add your kids, found out where you live and all necks get slit, vampiric wit the flow all rappers get bit, if you can’t take the blood get a f-ckin med kit, dude i bang in a sub, name a track or take a pick, gotta do my show, huffin gas wit my friends, dude my mom a metalhead screamin ‘that’s my f-ckin kid!’, dude my pops a metalhead screamin ‘that’s right f-ckin spit’ showin all my brothers all the songs that i’ve writ, talkin to my uncle ‘let’s drop this sh-t’ bang it wit my homies and we bounce your b-tch, rippin her asophagus, i come in wit apocalypse, i’m takin a hit and i’m pacin’ it, comin in her box and my c-ck say ‘drip’, i f-ck a b-tch who swallow it, i run up better pocket it, and still i gotta pocket pick, disciples i’m still ominous, wit rifles they ain’t protestant, i murder if you condescend, you confident wit no accomplishments? transform for the sh-t like optimus, now i’m lookin at the game like i’m an optimist, always fill em wit the fire never copin sh-t, so i spit it wit a lighter no combustion trick, then i shout out all my family ‘dude your cousin’s sick!’, then i fill em wit the venom and they høllöw b-tch, and the sh-t it marinatin like a bosco stick, and i hit em wit the krillin it go ‘bop’ they stiff, so i drag em to the back i gotta chop their limbs

- lil hollow lyrics

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