Report Cards lyrics

[Verse]
Cut the b*tch off, then my skin got clear
Betted on myself, then my wrist got litter
Got rich b*tch, say feel like my di*k got bigger
Nah, hoe, you di*k suckin' b*tch, sh*t been like that
Two hoes fightin' over me, I'm screamin', "Fight back"
Poppin' my motherf*ckin' collar, check out my neck
Broke my heart, my baby folded, I don't like rats
He told it all, he this and he that like Mike Jack
Louis on my biceps, holdin' back tears
I felt like a elf, big pointers, both of my ears
Hibernatin', trappin' hard, f*ck it, grow out the beard
Leanin' with a duffy on me, feel like Homer with beer
Yеah, duffel with a hundred piecе, bless the ones that run with me
Can't no n*gga humble me, all y'all n*ggas cornballs
Boy, I get big back ends like I need short yards
Every other month, I get all my hoes report cards
f*ckin' on the lawyer, eat me better than my pornstars
Boy was talkin' all that P sh*t 'til his girl called
Huh, lame-ass, dorky-ass, dweeby simp
You like Draymond Green, boy, you need the b*tch
Gotta keep a TEC on me, couple racks on me
House on a lake like Shaq, Kobe, yeah, I'm that cozy
Broke-ass hoes, don't check on me, bust a check for me
Water and karats, my jeweler treat me like a pet bunny
Got rich off my testimony, now ain't that somethin'?
How much you think it's gon' cost to whack you, sh*t, I'm just wonderin'
If you think you lonely now, ho, just wait 'til next Monday
New b*tch, new whip, oh my God
Know you said you was my favorite, ho, I lied
I'm on vacay with a n*gga ho right now (For real)
You got ninety-nine problems and it's a dollar meal
Broke ass, ain't got a penny in your pocket still, boy
I ain't even pop it yet, I'll black out for real
On stage with your stash on me, feel like Dr. Phil
Just crashed at your b*tch house, got no driving skills
She blew me, then I left her on read, n*gga, Tommy Hill
Heard you runnin' out of business like a fire drill
sh*t, f*ck it, I'll help you find some biz when I find a SIG
Put a belt to that n*gga ass, he Karate Kid
Look, I can show you how to slide right like the cha-cha dance
Ho a n*gga on the spot, I'm my grandma twin
I just keep fixin' cups like when hockey rigged
My housekeeper left me twenty blunts right by the bed
Runnin' plays with my b*tch like Juwanna Mann
Want some real game? Pay that fee
Old white man on a chick, KFC
Racks bustin' out the side like some Payless sneaks
Make him battle with a dot like the 8 Mile scene
Ho, eat it up now, ain't no, "May I, please?"
I'm the side n*gga to a bunch of lame-ass geeks
Ayy, yeah, f*ckin' on your ho, she was tangled up
Diamond choker on my b*tch like Players Club
Threw her in just to sl*t her out, she better not run
Bouncer asked do I got my weapon? No, just my gun
Try to plot, sh*t ain't goin' down, better grab your plunge
I let all my hoes do what they want, baby, have your fun
Thick b*tch on the way, baby, grab some ones
Got my other other ho askin', "Where them scratches from?"
Different bracket these days, I hate when the taxes come
Still doin' white collar like Daffy Duck