Magic
I have you gone disappear like some magic
You want some bitches, I just want a Patek
Rotten the gang, the whole team problematic
These rappers pussy, they scary, dramatic
And that bitch an addict, suck dick, she fanatic
She took the dick like a damn acrobatic
Rotstar my lifestyle, my life cinematic
This shit get deep like my team or a pussy
I get way too nervous if you acting pushy
So I got the Glock just in case you try cook me
I don't need security if you gon' book me
He said he hard, so let's go head and test it
"Am I gonna die today?" Yeah bitch you guessed it
Cause if I don't wipe you, you gon' start confessing
And I'm gon' be hiding from 12 fucking stressing
I got some Palace on, this ain't Adidas
And it's like five million dollars for a feature
I just spent some racks on some Burberry sneakers and fucked your bitch's mouth, yeah that bitch is an eater
You better pipe down, yeah humble your act
And I know y'all off NyQuil, that shit ain't no Act
All these rappers they talking but don't ever act
If you post where you at, I'll pull up with a heater
Uh, you be bout yours, I'm bout mine (ayy)
You in your box, I'm out mine, uh
Swerzie up next, bout time (ay)
Who made the beat? Downtime!
I need my fade, run that (look look!)
If you pull up, gun that!
Taking y'all out where the fun at
You ain't on shit, ain't on nun of that
In the booth every holiday
Woke up rich like "how I'ma go ball today?"
Followers like "What has he went bought today?"
"Is you Rotten or not?" All the way! (Bitch!)
I done made so much noise hear a block away
You not spending for real, put that band away
And you not hot at all, put that fan away
He seen I'm in his town and went ran away, bitch!