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revenge (demo) - packa benson lyrics

[verse]
pull up at the spot, i’m a shoot my f*cking princ*p*l
all these f*ggots from my school, swear i’d f*cking k!ll ’em all
i had dreams of taking these motherf*ckers out
you know who i’m talking ’bout, shoot you in your f*cking mouth
you know who i am, you know my f*cking name
keep my name up out your mouth, and i’ll keep it the same
but these b*tches always talking sh*t, that’s the f*cking problem b*tch
you know i take all your sh*t, all you f*gs get robbed, you b*tch
if i don’t make it out, swear i’ll f*cking k!ll myself
if i die for this bullsh*t, then i wish you well
fat b*tches pushing weight, buying food like retail
if my rapping fail, i drop out and start the weed sale
i smoke weed to get the stress off my mind
but these f*ggots bring sh*t up like the united game from 99
they always took the p*ss out my sh*t, but that’s fine
i never f*cked with your sh*t, so why you always f*cking with mine?
get off my d*ck, you, ugly b*tches
you did tee why cause you got lots of riches
you some stuck up priviliged kids, with no worries in your life
while i was in rehab for drugs, and got suspended for having three knives
i had knives on me during school hours
my apartment had no power, i used to be taking cold showers
but now i’m making money, paying rent to my mom
i had relatives in the r.i.a, it’s in my blood to make bombs
make bombs, blow your face off like napalm
never snitched on a single person, i can stay strong
but you p*ssys snitch under the first bit of pressure
to make sure you get the point, i’m a write you a lecture
i’m on the dole, i’ll do anything to make ends
i don’t give a f*ck about my life, i’ll throw it all away to get revenge
to get revenge
i cut you open, record, and watch that sh*t again and again
homicidal, i’m f*cked in my mind
one look into my eyes is guaranteed to leave you traumatized
it doesn’t take a lot to take a life
but you so f*cking fat when i stab you, it probably break the knife
how someone like you, calling me fake
like the drake mixtape, if you’re hearing this, it’s too late
if money was flowers, then i’d have myself a bouquet
how someone call me fake, when his shoes are f*cking bootleg
she said, yo, i found your spotify, you can rap?
i call cap, she was fat
these b*tches like rats, but became so focused on the cheese
that they forgot about the trap, what, how, what?

- packa benson lyrics

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