Vanish Mode lyrics

[Intro]
Uh
Uh
Uh-uh-uh-uh
(Damn, Rage, you goin' crazy)
Uh
Uh

[Chorus]
Put the trenches on my shoulders, threw the hood up on my back
She like, "These kids keep on gettin' killed," I promised my mama I ain't gon' lack
I keep 'bout fifty stuck in this Glock, b*tch, we got shots and we got straps
I hate a b*tch that have my cell phone number 'cause these hoes be gnats

[Verse 1]
The way this chopper get to twitchin', b*tch, look like it's special ed
I fap n*ggas down with this stick, you want a hat, aim at his head
I don't just f*ck and give hoes di*k, poke out your lips, I want some head
This Glock need to learn how to walk, I just went bought this ho a leg
I pray death upon my opps, I catch me one, he know he dead
I was gon' shoot out the whip, might hop out, walk him down instead
Thought he was a shotta 'til them shots rang and tore up his dreads (Damn, Rage, you goin' crazy)
We the reason them switches hot, b*tch, free my brother out the feds

[Chorus]
Put the trenches on my shoulders, threw the hood up on my back
She like, "These kids keep on gettin' killed," I promised my mama I ain't gon' lack
I keep 'bout fifty stuck in this Glock, b*tch, we got shots and we got straps
I hate a b*tch that have my cell phone number 'cause these hoes be gnats
[Verse 2]
I hate a b*tch that have my number, I can't give a ho receipts
I only text hoes in vanish mode, you screenshot me, b*tch I'ma see
I f*cked you on the first night, b*tch, how you gon' talk down on me?
Clean that lil' pus*y with some wipes, lil' ho, you triflin' for the streets
I met this one lil' b*tch in Texas, she ate di*k 'til I was soft
I tried to move that ho lil' head, I had to push her to get her off
I went bulletproofed the whips, move 'round the city like I'm Dolph (Damn, Rage, you goin' crazy)
I don't do payments, ain't sh*t rented, everything you see with me, I bought

[Chorus]
Put the trenches on my shoulders, threw the hood up on my back
She like, "These kids keep on gettin' killed," I promised my mama I ain't gon' lack
I keep 'bout fifty stuck in this Glock, b*tch, we got shots and we got straps
I hate a b*tch that have my cell phone number 'cause these hoes be gnats