DEAD MAN FREESTYLE lyrics

Uh-huh, ay, Doll
Why’d I go crazy on this sh*t?
(Run that up, Rico)
Stupid ass (b*tches ain’t on sh*t)
Talkin like a gangster, you a dead man
Yeah I’m on it (been on that, crazy)

Ay
You n*ggas ain’t my n*ggas
So when you see me, ay, don’t talk to me
I was in Toronto with some b*tches on a private beach
You speaking on my pockets when I’m up
This pus*y talk for me
I ain’t going back and forth with b*tches who don’t wanna meet
He gon whoop that cash out, b*tch I got my hand out
I don’t give no f*ck about no hoe because I stand out
He gon bring them bands out, ima bring my friends out
We just want the money
Tryna love me? n*gga, sit down
Bad b*tch, when he get a pocket, spend that
n*gga telling me he love me, wanna take me out to dinner
I don’t want him, I don’t need him
Best believe that, I mistreat him
In his pocket, like a wallet, make your n*gga take me shopping
di*k ain’t loyal if he f*cking b*tches by the boatload
He gon’ wanna blame it on his homie, that a bro code
Since that n*gga stank me, I been on that straight beast mode
They scream “Asian Doll!” while I’m shopping out in Soho
Grown b*tch, [?], you can’t trust a b*tch who loose
[?] 
Money longer than a pool stick
n*ggas fake, n*ggas flop
[?] f*cked the opp
G’d up like some Gucci socks
You wanna see this coohie pop
Dead man
If you rich and if you clutching, you a dead man
If you talking like you gangster, you a dead man
Tryna run up like you crazy, then you dead man
Dead man
Walk it how I talk it
Pocket swole up with your dead friends
Walking on me, n*ggas cold hearted
b*tches feeling
Roll a ounce, smoke a ounce, waiting on the mail man
b*tch you talking like you with it, you a dead man
Talking all that f*cking sh*t
b*tches ain’t on sh*t
n*ggas ain’t on sh*t
Ain’t gon’ never gon be on sh*t
f*ck