Computer Murderers Freestyle lyrics

[Intro]
(Yo, YBH)
Huh

[Verse]
I been flexin' on them hatin' b*tches
Now, they want me dead
I'm went sour, on my gangtsas
I keep one up in the end
I'm a Taurus, so you know I'm with the bullsh*t
I see red
When I caught her she was a nervous
She was talkin' like she's did that
Head tapped
They ain't want no getback
All them n*ggas fake shootas
All they bullets red cap
Ten stacks, G's on her head, Gucci head wrap
pus*y n*gga
How the heater reason why he spent a pack
Oh sh*t, yeah, they still my Instagram in motion
b*tches still subbin' me, eat a frank, ocean
n*ggas still beggin' me to f*ck, get the lotion, huh
Wonder how I do when I drop, no promotion
No Kereisha, only f*ckin' on a rich di*k, huh
I'm conceited, on my mirror it say "rich b*tch," huh
I buy my shootas new F&Ns when it's Christmas
She got hit up on her chest, but ain't no tit lift
I wait, hoed up in my city, call me big b*tch
Ain't no way they f*ckin' with me
They get dismissed
Why you think they call me Diiamond?
This that big drip
Cubans shinin' on my body, keep my wrist lit
[Outro]
pus*y!
Uh, yeah
Connie Diiamond, mo'f*cka