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down in the dm - willtharapper lyrics

[intro]
it’s lil’ robbie n-gg-
skrrt, skrrt, skrrrt

[verse 1]
i swear to god, it goes down in the dm
i swear to god, i bet a lot of n-gg-s bm’s
they boyfriends be lying (it’s a shame)
so i wouldn’t wanna be ‘em
i see his kids will never see ‘em
when he find out who’s been cheatin’ (so)
on my mother, i’m a lea’ him
he better stick to tweetin’
cause i ain’t lookin’ for no reason (for a reason)
this chopper cook him like he season
you know my old bih check my dm’s (for what?)
she probably thinkin’ i’m a whole fray
i tell her -ss calm down
she still my home team (b-tch calm down)
she still in my corner
i never ever roll her
these other b-tches on my line
they just frequent callers
and i ‘on got no b-tch if you don’t see no callers (h-llo?)
and i ain’t doing sh-t till i see some dollars (i need cash)
i f-cked your b-tch in august
i made her scream harder
she called my phone in may
sorry i’m not the father (not at all)

[verse 2]
it all started from a dm (from bm)
now you got a w in your bm (skrrt)
in her bwm she feigning
she pull down my zipper
then she suck me while i’m speeding (mwah, skrt, skrt, skrt)

[verse 3]
swear i’m going hard from the block to the bars (bars)
n-gg-s hiding sh-t sending blocks to them boss
i just run it up, book a show f-ck it up
see your b-tch she f-ck with us
tell your n-gg-s get the f-ck
i got n-gg-s in the cut with a 40 body gut
n-gg- keep on talking crazy i put 40 in his gut (duh, duh, duh, duh)
i shoot my shot and catch it
rob a whole you and your sl-t
girl you wanna fight or f-ck?
you get shot, you fight with us
i never been a p-ssy
and ain’t never give a f-ck
feds done ask me bout my men
but i ain’t never give him up
and i done f-ck some n-gg-s b-tches
they ain’t never had ‘em up
and if i send some shots just know
they ain’t never getting up

[verse 4]
i told my b-tch to give it up
but she keep asking bout my dm’s
n-gg-s clocking for a verse
like i’m trappin’ in my dm’s
n-gg- want a verse for free
boy get your -ss up out my dm’s (wait, what?)
if they log back in and cancel
i’m o’ tax that like a freedom
i’m strap up in my denim, if he dssin’ then we spendin’
n-gg-s love the twitter party
so we spend night and mention
birds be all around the city like a muhf-ckin’ pigeon
and my weed super loud like a muhf-ckin’ engine
i’m a muhf-ckin’ finish what i started in this b-tch
hit the gas, hit the boof and go r-t-rded in this b-tch
and i’m smoking all this sh-t like who farted in this b-tch
and her brain super good, get some knowledge in this b-tch
when you know i get to beefin’ (wha?)
mwah, mwah, mwah
that’s the end of the beat
and i don’t got no b-tch

- willtharapper lyrics

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