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hat track - testicle mafia lyrics

[intro: all]
ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh
yeah
that’s how we do it
bastion

[verse 1: jicc]
captain snydor with the stick and it’s go time
shawty pull my pants down and it’s go time
every time i pull up she on hoe time
man d*ck ride me for the whole time
she ratted on me thinking she so sly
first d*ck pic, said, “oh my”
i tag other dudes’ b*tches when i’m online
she said she don’t suck d*ck but she on mine
all i wanna do is smoke big blunts
all i wanna do is tote big guns
bad b*tches on my d*ck no whack ones
ratchet b*tches in my phone but they lack funds
hit it twice then i dip like salsa
tryna think straight, but i’m on some
scene hoеs, off mysp*ce
blue hair, tight jeans, with a nicе face

[verse 2: noawh]
hit it from the back but i got pace
your b*tch in my face but i need sp*ce
me and jax in the studio
dogs are out with the toolio
metal in my hands like its silverware
69’ing your b*tch, cum everywhere
playing truth or dare, i do every dare
she said kiss me, i said b*tch where
[verse 3: bast1on]
b*tch spinning on my d*ck like a beyblade
i shoot up the school like it’s payday
she wanna suck my d*ck on the toilet
i like to take sh*ts on the toilet
she suck my d*ck every day like a routine
good size, smells strong like a dookie
at the asylum, i want a b*tch that’s insane
b*tch i’m at the top of the food chain

[verse 4: __]
b*tch farted on my face, gave my pink eye
b*tch p*ssy so filthy call it pink guy
f*cked her in the ass, she gave me sh*t d*ck
i was so appalled, so i made a devious l!ck
i stole a man’s b*tt plug with no hesitation
too bad his p*ssy has no precipitation
i tore up his cat last week
while i wore a hat like a freak
the cap stays on in the sheets
cause’ without it, i’m a meek
his grip feels d*mn good on the meat
i just bought some pics of james charles’ feet
imma box monkeypox with an awfully hot coffee pot
with the strap i got
cr*p, i might not
my intestines got a tight knot
on the black market, i might cop
f*ck the supreme court, that’s a mic drop
[verse 5: jaebaby]
last track n farted while we was recording
the cause of his stench made us stop the recording
homie got back in the stu’ the next morning
nah, i’m playing, it’s night, it’s not even morning
so hopped on the track, the next day wit hat
and i hit the griddy on hayward like that (show me your griddy)
listen to vexbolts that man got them facts
when we talking ’bout grippers i just think of jax
some dogs on the bed, i might stop and act up
just ate canes, now we back making pop
music. that’s a lie, it’s t*st*cl* mafia until we die
keep making records so hot to get by
on a month’s rent, but it don’t matter to me
cause’ the opps stomachs they lookin’ like c’s
run down the street they can’t handle me
hold up, ain’t you nathaniel b?

[outro: all]
f*ck snydor (alle, alle, alle)
snydor sucks
captain snydor
captain what?

- testicle mafia lyrics

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