Ex-Machina lyrics

[Verse 1: Marjorie -W.C. Sinclair]
Asahina trap, track n field, flippin' tangerines like a ballerina
Kishimoto, choppa fully loaded, heavy metal on me like I'm Ex-Machina
Hellraiser III, I'ma make 'em bleed, tell 'em aisle three gon' need a clean up
On a shoppin' spree, baby all on me but I left her spinnin' like she Katarina
Tapioca puddin' how my baby lookin', told her, "Take some footage, we gon' make a million"
Got a thousand women, salmon sandal pimpin', put her on a blade and made my baby risk it
All about a biscuit, why the f*ck you trippin'? Kisaraga, baby, I jus' hit the limit
If them Ms is missin', you will end up missin', only took a minute once the message sended

[Verse 2: HR Moni(?)]
Slap a pus*y n*gga if he talkin’ down, see me round the town, and you don’t approach
Man, these n*ggas hoes, how you serenading on the same b*tches being double broke?
How the f*ck you famous making minimum wages?
How you “bout’ it bout’ it," but you writing statements?
You be in the house? b*tch, I be goin’ places
n*ggas shooting walls? b*tch, I be hitting faces

[Verse 3: HR Double(?)]
Ay, I be in my zone
Ay, I hit that lil b*tch up in the face, yeah, with my c*m
Ay, yeah, yeah
Ay, b*tch, I’m so disgusting (Ew)
If a n*gga want the funk, it ain’t no f*ckin’ discussion
Ay, no, no, no, no, aye, no
Too much money on me, got the heat on me (Ah)
They say “Rambo, what you on?” b*tch, I’m on everything
I f*ck whoever I see, but, b*tch, it’s me and me
Baby, what you really want? Baby, what you need?
[Verse 4: 333VOL(?)]
Pop another bottle, f*ck another model, I don’t give a f*ck, I’m red bottom steppin’
n*ggas get intimidated when I’m sliding through, these b*tches jiggolating when they feel my presence
Smoking on that bomboclaat, they call it cookie Woods, but me and Moni up-up in your f*ckin’ session
b*tch, I’m hella trife, I’m never nothing nice, I’ll prolly serve your mom and the motherf*ckin’ reverend
n*gga, put it on a flow, better ten-to-fo', roll a f*cking seven or a f*cking ‘leven
Give some pretty b*tch a little pretty drink, tell her “We gon’ run it up and then go die in heaven”