​a rap song lyrics

[Intro]
I'm eating a jolly rancher

[Verse]
I'm making- I'm making money for sure
I keep that pole told lil bro "don't fold"
I keep that Glock and it go
And that mac got a scope
Keep that clip if you run up
Came with the stick out just like a drummer (tss, tss)
You gotta dig up your mother to hug her
And I'm making bands like a f*cking pack runner
I feel like shine the way that I'm on rico charges
I'm on parole, I'm on parole for murder
I just killed a family of five
That gun doesn't have ammo in it like bro that's a lie
I can be off-beat and I am still fye
You cap on the gram like we ain't watching you at all times
I'm sipping wock until I go blind
I do not sip wock I don't even know if that sh*t happens
Glock about to clap like its magic
He talking sh*t we go spray at that faggot
And he want the rab method he can tap in
I feel like jame hallow tips never lacking
You hop on the beat and you go passive
I hop on the beat and I go aggressive
Your pockets more poor than the great depression
We bout to turn up in this b*tch no need for compression
And that Glock with a di*k boutta teach you a lesson
Just kidding
That Glock with a di*k about to cave your damn head in
And that's the sh*t you'll be forgetting
RIP Bro now he's floating with angels in heaven
I'm making money like Devin
[Outro]
(I'm sorry I just had to say that because I don't know who Devin is bro)
(Like I--I needed a bar, but like, you know)
(Um)
(You know, I hope you liked it)
(No, f*ck you, I don't care if you like it, you know)
(It was a joke, it was a joke, dude)
(Yeah)