FREAK lyrics

[Verse 1: MAC]
I'ma bust a move like Mike Jack
Stay tucked, lil n*gga, 'cause you might lack
Stay pimpin', two hoes in the hatchback
f*ck a duffel, put the Gs in the knapsack

Mac in the spot, say crackin' the box
Got the game on lock, put 'em on like socks
No Roddy Rich, put a n*gga in the box
Go dummy with the drums, I got all the chops

All you do is talk, you ain't really 'bout the action
I spit fire, get fly like a dragon
n*ggas know I'm the root, like Latin
Said you wanna get rich so I asked him

T.D., B.O.A., chase who you bank with?
Said the bag is the only thing I'm chasin'
Stars on the ceiling, beat it up in the spaceship
Make a n*gga see the vision like LASIK

First link, like a test, I'ma ace it
I'm too good for you b*tches, face it
Soon as you get into the room, get naked
I'm a di*khead, my ego inflated
Tryna link with Stacy
She got a best friend named Sasha
Dark-skinned lil shorty named Tracy
Slim thick, and I heard she from Ghana

So, all of you b*tches be basic
But my main shorty hotter than a sauna
I don't slide on the block, don't pop sh*t
But I'ma still give a lame n*gga trauma, ooo

[Verse 2: JT ATM]
I got a dozen bagels in my bank account
Write a check to the jeweler with a blank amount
If you talk about hits, yea we crank 'em out
3rd Ave this in this b*tch ain't no faking now

All my homies are bad b*tches
All my homies got mad riches
Surrounded by the bread like sandwiches
I always wrap it up like bandages
Never free, I always got plans because

I get to the green, yea I get to the cheese
When it comes to the pus*y, I say yes, please
f*ck a b*tch good, make her weak in the knees
Yea I hit a bad b*tch and her baddie bestie
f*ck a scantron, can't even test me
f*cking Pope John, can't even bless me
I move in the night like I'm a chess piece
Tell her get out the room 'cause, shh, I'm resting
[Verse 3: Thai Thai]
Cole like Bennett, handle my business
Every week fashion week, I'm too fitted
I run from the bad b*tches, I'm too timid
I'm a go-getter, b*tch I'm gon get it

Shawty ain't tryna ride in yo rented
This a Benz truck, the windows so tinted
This my new flow, the smooth, I invented
You cannot bite the style, just quit it

Back it up, b*tch, never heard nothing like this
My sh*t so sick like I'm spitting a virus
f*ck with my clique 'cause u lookin' to die, b*tch
My ho, a milf in a midlife crisis

Make it make sense, wait make it make m's
Yeah, my b*tch bad, Barbie would've thought I was Ken
You better stop, drop, and roll when I pick up the pen
And if we f*ckin' then I bet you never see me again, leugh

[Verse 4: TypeOh]
Used to wear clothes that ain't fit me
Now I'm walking out the f*cking store rocking cross B's
I heard I got a fan out in Sydney
Once we get a show in the oz give her box seats
Like I hit an opp with a stick in the head
For the past six years I done picked up the pen
Ever since then my money got big
Bigger than the first pick in 87

Where the hoes at, I'm trynna f*ck
My body on ice, a hockey puck
Pulled a card with fate and drew luck
Take a shot at me and I ain't gon duck
Duck, goose, I'm the one yo b*tch gon' choose
3rd Ave on the breaking news
Pull up and we breaking rules, b*tch