This a $crim beat
Yung Christ, 59
DJ $crim with that 808
Work!
Crack up in my swisher , blowin bitches kisses
Syrup got me twisted , G59, the misfits
Swervin and Im fucked up, servin time, Im locked up
Chopper sprayin, Mack truck 
You live a life of bad luck
All my hoes do drugs 
All my homies thugs 
Bitches fucking scrubs 
Explorer on some dubs 
This that flex on them with no mercy
That text I get at one-thirty, yo bitch beggin to get fucked
Leggings on, but I rip em up, just enough to slide up in
All about them Benjamins, dead presidents
Im heaven sent, you just a fuckboy, thats irrelevant 
Bow down to your sensei 
You talking to a God boy
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
G59, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Swervin past the Church in all black clothing
Holding up a middle finger, MAC showing
Throwing cash, hoes run and clash—get they back broken
Pop the cap open
Throat soaking in some liquid potion, ocean motion
Toasting to the stars, got a great view from Mars
Spit a couple bars just to show it aint hard 
59 aint far from the start, all brain and heart
Gotta play your part in the game, make sure you aim the dart
Fresh fruit by the platter
Sipping water
Hear it splatter
Got ash on my shirt
But Im me, so it never matter
Fuck a job, stay at home
Rolling bones till Im gone
Hair ties on my wrist
This the doped up ghost
Laying in my bed, feeling dead now
Money stashed in my pocket with the bands now
I dont like rap cause they do it wrong
Im isolated cause I cannot take this shit no more
Laying in my bed now, feeling kinda dead now
Money stashed up in my pocket with the bands now
I dont like rap cause they do it wrong
Im isolated cause I cannot take this shit no more