SIMULACRUM Lyrics

Yo soul a simulacrum stone tablet hold the chapters

Got thrown out toss the batter goths' are badder

Stoner hoe golden look sexy smokin' doja

I got sticky icky in the roll up

Posin wit me Vicky got the bowl cut

I'm too sick he really 'bout to throw up

Pick me got me drippy with the ice buys nice prizes

I'm on islands, no Epstein

Never kill myself in a cell that's yo wet dream

Flow benzene, colorless gaseous

I'm leakin' don't test me, one spark and it pop

You and your bestie can't best me

Necropolis poppin' in the city where the dead be

Bro dead meat when I turn the grass into red leaf

Great gatsby with the strap gettin' nasty

Gettin' nasty, gettin' fucked up

Gettin' dough, that's on the bros

I got the pants with the pants holes

Run from the base to the boat

With the eighths and the O's

And a case of the cold ones

Uh, case of the cold ones

Got stow money ace in the hole

Bound my soul to phylactery

Never catch me lackin' G

Yo soul a simulacrum stone tablet hold the chapters

Got thrown out toss the batter goths' are badder

Stoner hoe golden look sexy smokin' doja

I got sticky icky in the roll up

Posin wit me Vicky got the bowl cut

I'm too sick he really 'bout to throw up

Pick me got me drippy with the ice buys nice prizes

I'm that pilot, too fly with it

Air with the flow I ride in it

I take the hoes to the bank

I smoke the O's then I drank

While I'm countin' the dank

And I'm countin' the kush in it

Drone strike opps George Bush with it

I burn bros with a click

I dig holes make a ditch

Sell yo soul you a bitch