Like Yac (Key Glock Remix) lyrics

[Intro]
I weren't gonna do it, that's money, ha

[Verse]
Ain't sending no disses this sh*t competition
And honestly these n*ggas ain't even worth dissing
I only did it 'cause rap made me do it
I only did it 'cause you n*ggas didn't
n*ggas be scared to jump up in that water
I'm finna dive in head first like I'm swimming
I got that biscuit, it got some in it
I feel like Fred Durst, yeah that's how I be limpin'
Ain't really wit' all this lyrical sh*t, but I am gettin' tired of hearin' this sh*t
'Bout the pills that you popped, 'bout the b*tches you hit
'Bout all the fake sh*t that you got away with (n*ggas is trash)
Words what I got a way with, so you gotta take notes
Read through like scopes, aim hit
No sticks, no stones, and I'm not gon' take bricks
No, no, can't miss like I got ten kids
I hear a whole nothin'
A whole lotta robbin', a whole lotta muggin'
A whole lotta mobbin', a whole lotta thuggin'
We just need somebody be real 'bout the subject (For real)
f*ck if you lovin' it, Cordae ain't cuttin' it
I give a f*ck how you feel 'bout the government
Brothers and sisters and all of this other sh*t
If I catch lil' Cordae cord, I'm unpluggin' it
Uh, plugging it
Shut up lil' b*tch, put a plug in it (Shut the f*ck up)
n*ggas rap like we in history class, if you n*ggas teaching I ain't even studying
Boy I'm a drop out, I'm 'bout all of the sh*t that you not 'bout
Plus I rap better than n*ggas who hot now
I take your whole top five out
Kill 'em in front of you like, "Who is your God now?"
It's somethin' 'bout you n*ggas I don't like to listen
Talk 'bout your problems, you poverty stricken
I don't like sob stories, I don't like b*tchin'
So, I don't like Logic, like these b*tches
They be like women with they nail technicians
How all these lil' n*ggas just gossip?
n*ggas be all they in they feelings, I call these lil' n*ggas Hopsins
Two guns, big titties, call 'em Tomb Raider
If I'm anything, know it's not gon' be a hater
I do the dash, yeah, hasta luego
I'm on the grind watch me shred like some paper
Boy you a get torn apart like some paper
You get the front page and yo' fam' read it later
Clip get stuffed like a Garcia y Vega
40 like liquor, this sh*t f*ck yo' day up
I'm keeping that pole, boy if you reach then yo' finger gone roll like a lay-up
We gon' get it on tape when we get this n*gga taped
Get bussed on, f*cked on cam like Dreya (f*ck)
f*ck n*gga askin' me how to get his plays up
I can not help you, I ain't no caretaker
But I can tell you the truth if you take it
Yo' sh*t trash, Tyler, The Creator (That sh*t trash)
We don't want hear that sh*t, not now, not later
Lil' n*gga just keep it, just save it
n*ggas out here winning Grammys for bullsh*t playlists and I'm still just being patient
Waiting, for the moment of taking
My time or yo' life, you know which one I'm taking
You got a bone to pick, but the sh*t breaking