​machiavelli lyrics

[Intro]
(I have to kill you now)
(R. E. E. F.)
(R. E. E. F.)
(R. E. E. F. b*tch)
(Reef, b*tch)
(Ha, no cap, ugh, go)

[Verse 1]
How 'bout you give it up
It don't get better than Reef
You was better off watching the cinema
Money for bond if I turn to a visitor
Y'all versus me, eh, the chances are minimum
Remember when I put it on God that I ain't normal?
You get whacked 'bout a b*tch like I'm Greg Norman
I'll lay down the hood like I'm George Foreman
Akorn till the morning I'm still pouring
Lil brother OD'd on a thrill and they still mourning
Gave this b*tch a year and she still boring
You could cut off my hands, boy, I'm still scoring
They been sleep on the kid and they still snoring
Bill Cosby, it's f*ck 'em
My lil sniper from outta the states, so I call his ass Tris Cucker (Chris Tucker)

[Pre-Chorus]
Hunnids and fifties, lil reefer just rap about money
What if I was spitting 'bout titties, my lil brother die 'bout some titties
Or maybe a bunny, I'm fresh out the tomb like a mummy
You fresh out the womb, 'cause I'm f*cking yo mummy
X made me crash like a dummy, get to that cash like I'm Dami
Promethazine looking p*ssy, the Glock told him nose, now he runny
[Chorus]
Rock 'bout a check, I'll kill for a band
Just land in Japan and flew back with a tan
If I'm claiming the G.O.A.T, then I'm sorry I am
My sniper on timing, I bought him a A.P
Now I call him AP Sam-I-Am, 'cause he turn they brain to eggs and ham
If I was in Creed, I'm not throwing hands
This T-33'll leave sh*t in his pants

[Verse 2]
Sipping Rosé, I could really give a f*ck 'bout what a hoe say
I don't play 'bout closure, she ride the pickle and sh*t like its kosher
I come first like a brochure, or a brochure
You had a band on you, why you cut your bro short?
I deliver new sons like a pro stork
b*tch, I'm in a Cullinan, you still driving a old Ford
(Couldn't be me)

[Verse 3]
Or maybe it could
I keep that b*tch on me, I'm good
I'm stuffing a trey in the wood
Sippin' Hi-Tech boy, my cup been on blood
Did you hear your new sh*t? That sh*t was a dud
King Reef, Gen-Z, King Tut
Glock 19, Gen 3, better duck
Hop in that foreign and burn the b*tch up
[Verse 4]
I got a X pill belly, I'm in the vile, pus*y, no Nelly
b*tch get off yo phone, we in the telly
The chop came pink, my Machine Gun Kelly
Smucker up boy this b*tch kiss you and turn you to jelly
And bag up ya belly, god damn, I feel like Machiavelli
p*ss in the cup boy, I'm sipping R Kelly
Hurricane Katrina, Audemar Skelly

[Bridge]
f*ck a bullet I want proof, they ain't know I was bulletproof
I woke up in space, dozed off in a Range Rover
I wake up and spit, I'd be p*ssed 'bout a hangover

[Pre-Chorus]
Hunnids and fifties, lil' reefer just rap about money
What if I was spitting 'bout titties, my lil brother die 'bout some titties
Or maybe a bunny, I'm fresh out the tomb like a mummy
You fresh out the womb 'cause I'm f*cking yo mummy
X made me crash like a dummy, get to that cash like I'm Dami
Promethazine looking p*ssy, the Glock told him nose, now he runny

[Chorus]
Rock 'bout a check I'll kill for a band
Just land in Japan and flew back with a tan
If I'm claiming the G.O.A.T, then I'm sorry I am
My sniper on timing, I bought him a A.P
Now I call him AP Sam-I-Am, cause he turn they brain to eggs and ham
If I was in Creed, I'm not throwing hands
This T-33'll leave sh*t in his pants
(I have to kill you now)