uicider
Hunnid spokes on the fucking hearse
Bitch I'm cursed
Riding around with a can full of gas and a match and a mask
Then we stop at the Church
Lighting the front of the blunt now I'm burnt
Got that work in my trunk
Yeah, that's that bump that you heard
That pussy boy purred when I popped him in the head
Got blood on my shirt
Yung Plague is the worst
Pulling up on a curb
And then snatch me a purse
And the bitch carrying it
When she ever gonna learn?
Bitch I’m trying to swerve
Something like I got no limbs
Flowing with the dirt
Middle finger up
Fuck the herd
Shut the fuck up, bitch
Let me blow down on this Indo
It's that scarecrow riding solo
Blood dripping down my polo
It's that dynamite tossing
Sleep up in a coffin
Jeffrey Dahmer with Alzheimer's
Zombies marching right behind us
Creeping, creeping with the hatchet
All my hoes is ratchet
Smoking blunts but ain't no passing
Smoking bowls but ain't no packing
Middle finger macking, dead bodies keep on stacking
Hickory, Dickory, Dock
Pulling out my Glock
Pull the triggers, bodies drop
Like "pop, pop, pop, pop!"