Tree Trunks lyrics

[Intro: fatmowf]
Shout out to DOOM, man
Rest in peace the god

[Verse 1: fatmowf]
Yo
If looks could kill, I should probably be arrested
For brandishing a weapon, I bought this swag at Smith and Wesson
The devil was the clerk, I told him that I'd pay with debit
'Cause for some f*cking reason these n*ggas never give me credit
When Huckleberry's on the song, you know it's f*cking epic
Man have you heard Killcat? That sh*t sounds schizophrenic
The Llama hand sign, I throw it up like anorexic
Pray to myself, cause your religion, I just cannot respect it
n*ggas out here buying sh*t, just so thеy can flex it
Man you don't even likе the sh*t, you just follow aesthetics
That just could never be me, stop the trickery
Take that mask off, cause you too f*cking old for trick or treat
White girl sucked my di*k we making black history
Black girl sucked my di*k, she drank my white supremacy
n*ggas talking bout some "they not feeling me", you sh*tting me?
I must be live at the deaf club like Dead Kennedys, n*gga
Homicide or suicide? Man I hate choosing sides
But we can make it happen, pick a victim, I'll let you decide
But if you ever disrespect me, you'll get brutalized
Worse than Kanye West alone in a room with a Jewish guy
You n*ggas f*cking lame, you n*ggas my opposite
You n*ggas f*cking hating must have lost your common sense
You n*ggas can't be saved, now Imma state the obvious
That one thing I don't play about is motherf*cking LLAMASPIT, ya dig?
Yeah
[Verse 2: Suave Dubois]
One two, one two, yes, yes
b*tch, I'm swinging for an online Hitler, and it's clipse if it lands
Then turn the lower east side into 50s Japan
I can Shinzo Abe Obama for the kids in Sudan
So don't get me started on (yay!), or this sh*t will get banned
I don't like this, gassed like Ye on the Nitrous
No Mohammad Atta I'm a motherf*cking flight risk
Ra upper, Irish Isis
Pulled over soberly, didn't show license
Your wifey chicken wing, your shorty tossed in buffalo
I ditch a situationship before the Christmas costs explode
b*tch I'm rock and roll, Chappell Roan hot to go
Apps up on her Apple TV, I'm playing Crossy Road
S. Dubois b*tch report on the floor
Few troops, it's a few battles short of a war
Too cute, remember days used to say it in jest
But nowadays, b*tch I'm king, so I say it with chest
It's King Geedorah, Wait no, baby it's S.D the
Next suave, espionage and a new leader
Baby girl, I agree, it's egregious
Working 'til my f*cking hands bleed like Christ Jesus
Suave selling K2 to K-12, moonlighted as the man on the moon and it pay well
John Kennedy, told buddy get out the way
Come out and show them, come out to play
b*tch