PAIN lyrics

[Verse 1: ilysm]
I'm destined to f*ck on your girl
b*tch I'm like Banksy I'll make her a mural
You working out but I'm counting my curls
You still the ugliest boy in the world
Ough, huhh, you make me hurl
I'm in the club and i do a lil twirl
Stacking my money its flipping and dancing
It twerk on my waist and I'm feeling romantic
Uh, huh, I talk my sh*t
Comes out my mouth so I don't need to sit
You needa stand cos' you look like a b*tch
When he go neck he should just stream it on Twitch
Huh, huh, you getting kicked
I'm on the beach and I'm taking a sip
Diamond on, diamonds on, diamonds on wrist
You're dying and crying while I think its lit
I call you ice cream cos' you just a lick
Feel like Suge Knight when I walk in this b*tch
I, me, spill drank on your kicks
Drank on your carpet fore i left your digs
Feel like 'Preme Patty when she call my phone
I'm in her car and I'm giving hеr dome
Shes in my car and werе smoking that pack
You in your mom's house cooking the crack
I would be happy but really its sad
You in the lab and you rapping real bad
You in the stu and you sit on your ass
Droppin' no music, but that's just your task
Hah, uhh, you NPC
Who you gon' shoot at? It best not be me
Still duckin' and dodgin' and wavin' the shots
While you run up the block always screamin' bout opps
You a b*tch
[Verse 2: doin' fine]
f*ckin on ur b*tch, im just singing [?], getting records
[?], this sh*t will make use of better backups
See me hittin' lick on your missing wrist in too much makeup
No I'm dirty business if I [?] this blicky blicky blahh (LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM)
I'm a phenomenon, see me I'm Dumbledore, your b*tch another one
I got the Parmesan, I got mascara on, I should've gone off (*boom*)
We will throw him in a lake
Like I'm Aubrey but I'm Drake
Note to [?] a magic gate
Your shawty like I'm not gay
Then she suck like she bad or sumn
She suck me like a fag or sumn
I should've gone with the cash and gone
She guzzling until she has a fountain (What)
I-I-I-I-I think I'm Ricky Ross
I'm high as hell eating Johnsons with the sticky sauce
I pull up in that twizzy tonk stay inside your city pop
5 in her mouth and she smile like Iggy Pop
I ain't leaving the house till I get my f*cking moolah
My wrist looks like I went for a scooba
I look like I work at Hooters
And sound stuck inside a tuba