ZACK & CODY FREESTYLE! lyrics

[Intro: ISSBROKIE]
(Oh, my God, stop the music)
"Oh, my God, stop the music"
How 'bout you stuff this di*k in yo' mouth? (Haha)
I thoroughly apologize for what I just said
I did not know what I was saying, and I apologize
I-I made a- I made a severe lapse in my judgment
I'm so sorry, uh, please forgive me
Please don't take this to Twitter, I'm so sorry, oh, my God

[Verse 1: ISSBROKIE]
Ayy, she suck on my di*k and she tell me it's bussin'
He say he gon' kill me I know that he bluffin'
I stay with the drum and a muhf*ckin' drumstick
I bong on her ass like this sh*t was percussion
She eat on my di*k like a muhf*ckin' muffin
My b*tch always mad 'cause I'm always on dumb sh*t
I hit from the back; know that b*tch made me c*m quick
Brokie and LAC, know that we run sh*t

[Verse 2: Cacity]
Just met this girl and she is rеally kind
Got my hands on her waist and I'm hittin' behind
Got my hands on her facе while she suckin' me dry
Just found out this faggot is really a guy (Gu-u-uy-uy-uy-y)
And I got a b*tch and she got a b*tch
Now we got a b*tch, now we smoke that sh*t
And now I took a hit
Smokin' so many packs you would think I'm a mist
[Verse 3: ISSBROKIE]
I run up on that swap meet, copped me some Heelys
Yo' b*tch in the trap, but she won't suck my PP
Shout-out to VERMIN V!Z, that boy is creepy
Turn that boy blue like his name Mr. Meeseeks
Keep me outta yo' mouth if you talkin' sh*t
H-He don't know I got the drop on him
He wanna DM to start sh*t, I'm blockin' him
If I see that boy on percs then I'm robbin' him

[Verse 4: Cacity & ISSBROKIE]
(Ew)
Get yo' b*tch asses outta my DMs
You want the kid and you ain't gonna see him
She came over for all over my cre-am
I smack the f*ckboy when I see him
That b*tch suck on my c*ck, she got di*k breath (Ew)
When it come to my c*ck, it's what she wanna inject
Yo' gang is a b*tch fest
I swear to God, I got a [?] for yo' shawty to lick less
I got a strap, double-O seven, no suppress
Do you not have no b*tches?
I don't deal with b*tchless
Me and Brokie gonna jump on yo' homies
They ain't gonna do sh*t (Yuh)
[Verse 5: ISSBROKIE & Cacity]
You say you get b*tches but where are they at?
I pull up on the spot with the rat-tat-ta-ta
Got a drop on that boy, I got his Google Map
They cryin' so much 'cause I just got a pack (Cash)
I'm chillin' in Oakland, I'm servin' that pack
You sleep on that couch while I'm makin' a rack
That b*tch got a di*k in her pants, she a trap
But really that sh*t was a strap!
You know that I carry a Mag
I'm up in yo' residence, know that I'm whippin' up crack
Me and LAC, Cody and Zack
You talkin' sh*t but you know we both smokin' yo' pack
Yo' b*tch I'ma snap her, I hit a dab
And that is a fact
Nah, sorry, it's cap
Like, b*tch I am rad
[?]
Like where is yo' dad? I am your dad

[Outro: ISSBROKIE & Cacity Both]
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
Score, score, score, score, score
High five, high five
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I go to school with Gxner (Yeah, yeah)
I play Football (Yeah)