How Different States Rap 2 lyrics

[Intro]
Your ass goofy as hell on my son, shortie
On my kids, on my soul, shortie
Your ass trippin´ on fonem, boy (Get on that, Rico)
Get on yo ass
Your ass tweakin´ on bro
Your ass goofy, shortie, on bro, shortie
On my son, shortie, on my soul
On fonem, boy

[Verse 1]
Fonem posted up oustide with brand new blicks, they ready to drill
Ready to ride, I'm one of the guys, shortie, you tweakin, you ain't in the field
I ain't goin' for none, if I get on yo ass you better think fast cause I'm ready to kill
I'm known to just blast, won´t question your ass, on my soul get blown to the pack for real
Big Fat got killed in the gangway
Sweet tooth should've died with a milkshake
Smoked Christian, he diеd on a Sunday
Don't see the bullets that I got in yo damn face
I'm likе ¨n*gga, what? Who did what to me?¨
I put goofies on the news plan but load the magazine
Goofy now bro when bro got smoked yo goofy ass ran on one the guys
Can't [?] where it's crackin' at, don't wolf, yo ass gon' die
I could rock sh*t, Imma slide I still done business every time
Ay, you love a thot, you stupid, boy
Smokin on this ruca, boy
Shootin' sh*t like Luka, bruh
Lean in and I'm shootin, bro
[Verse 2]
These VVS diamonds, I feel like Poseidon, my jewelry is wet cause I'm lit
I could prove all of you want me just show me you love me, spent 56 thousand on drip
I just bought one of my b*tches Givenchy
Keep money and mindin' my business
Right now I'm getting these commas
My b*tch don't say period
Don´t got time for a sentence
Now with these tiddies I'm dryin them up
And all of my n*ggas on roll
Took a shot but it go in her throat
And bullets is hitting his coat
f*ck the bread, we makin' a toast
For [?]
I knew every rapper would DM my ex
They knew every bullet go straight through his mans
I shot him he thought there would be a chance
And Gucci and Louis and Prada Givenchy and coochie and money and guns, oh yeah
She suckin' my di*k when she with me, she suckin' my di*k when she with me
She suckin' my di*k 'til it's sticky

[Verse 3]
Designer Glock came from Europe, survive a shot then you lucky
Your cuh got killed in Memphis, they find his head in Kentucky
They think I'm havin' sex, I be quick to bust if you touch me
Slidin sh*t for the mercy, catchin bodies ain't nothin
Yo b*tch just sucked my di*k, 'fore she was just callin me ugly
Family ain't even love me, now everybody my cousin
Uncle Rodger shot a deer, I'm in Memphis drinking beer
I don't be believing n*ggas, they be lyin' in they lyrics
Choppa hit him in his leg, the bullet travel to his arm
Before I buy a n*gga lean let's shake it up like Bella Thorne
Totin' pistols at 11, we was [?] poster boys
She like my new veneers, that's how teegers made a storm
This sh*t could get deadly, you know I'm a felon
I'm keepin my weapon, get struck if you catch me
We wet em like water, bustin' his belly
Wanna be like ¨somethin new?¨ now he ready spaghetti