GUTS & GRIFFITH ft. Flap PeaCock Lyrics

They know what's up

And if they don't, we grabbin' poles and loadin' up

Rollin' up, ain't talkin' blunts

Hop in the whip and floor the clutch

Rip the E brake out the column, hit the corner throwin' dust

Pull down on him, put the heat up in his face, he chokin' up

Barbed wire round my neck, chokin' on blood

Hard wired on that blow, need to calm down, pourin' up mud

Sharp spikes stickin' out my head piece

Ever since a kid I been a deadbeat

Wrap you in bedsheets and throw you to the sharks youngin

Let 'em take care of you

Flash the blick all you want but just know that I ain't scared of you

Get up close, hit you up with the blade and just start tearin' you to pieces

To leave you livin', well that wouldn't be fair to you

I'll put you out yo misery, take in all of yo energy

You gone in loving memory, pay for yo documentary

You played and this the penalty, turn you to sedimentary

And smoke on you for days, you on shelves inside dispensaries

Got me laughin' like a maniac

Ignorance is bliss but on the beat somethin' like a braniac

Loafin' in the crib, you need to do somethin' with yo lazy ass

Broke out the asylum, they can't catch up with my crazy ass

Bitch said my dick tip taste like Cheerios

Nut up in a honey, dancin' in her like a spiritual

She knows (Nose) to always hit my line (Peacock) she a fiend

'Cause I give her hella coke, she said it taste like gasoline

Ether

Bro you got to meet her

This little white girl, she be smellin' louder than some reefer

Or a speaker, she's a reeker, be sure to know she's a tweaker

She work magic in a pan, I thought that little hoe name was Peter

I'm fixin' to hit a line of snow, chill, it's fine

I do it all the time

And by this point, I feel like I don't even need to say it anymore, my youngin you know I ain't lyin'

I hop up on the track and murder it

I make this shit invertebrate, I find the verbs to break it's motherfucking spine

Eatin' these beats, got to mute the chomp

Lickin' my plate, my youngin, need another glass of wine

Yo songs is weak brother, ain't no comp

I be teachin' and killin' the competition, Columbine

She said "Flap you better kill this pussy"

I said K shawty, I'm a dog and I can count to 9

Sometimes I be trying to not be shiesty, my youngin but all I know is slime

Flappy, I'm a 10 ten times out of 10 so it makes sense (Cents) that a youngin always with a dime

I be doin' folks sour than a lemon out of spite, ain't no Sprite, a youngin green like a lime

Honestly I'm surprised, I done seen some motherfucking shit my youngin

I don't even know how the hell I'm alive

And I think I unintentionally take granted of it, every time I wake up in the morning and I open up my eyes

I be runnin' through these bags on bags on bags on bags on bags

Malnourished, sleep deprived