[Intro]
Cunty, cunty, cunty
Cunty, cunty, cunty
(You think you know me)

[Chorus: Yung Midpack]
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop

[Verse 1: Yung Midpack]
Pull up on yo' block with the pistol
Slap you up nigga, little boy, just dismiss you
I don't give a fuck, right punch you, it's official
I don't give a shit, little nigga, you need tissue
For your fucking face 'cause it's full of the blood
Blood, bloody, bloody, bloody, bloody, bloody, blood
Smack you fucking up, nigga I take a stub
Grab you fucking up nigga, put you in the trunk
Vertically nigga I take you to the dump
Me nigga, I-


[Verse 2: JPEGMAFIA]
What you niggas want? Huh
Got that thang in the trunk, huh
What you niggas need? Huh
Pills, crack, coke, weed, huh
Pressure, pressure
I don't wanna hit 'em with the K (Lord forgive me, I'm sorry)
I don't wanna hit 'em with the K (Hit 'em all in the body)
I'ma have to go and be the bad man
Baby I'ma put him in his place
I'ma have to do it to you baby (I just caught another body)
I'ma have to give him something 'mazing (Hit 'em all in the body)
Tell 'em when I'm talking to my baby

[Chorus: JPEGMAFIA]
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop

[Verse 3: JPEGMAFIA]
Look, it's the young alt-right menace
What's the pistol to a pennant?
Treat a writer like a senate nigga, huh
Surface level niggas never get it
Fuck a rating and a cynic
Always talking, never living nigga, huh
I don't make no music for these niggas
Say they wanna be a critic
But they cannot take no criticism, huh
Nigga, we the junkies, they the dealers
I be rapping, they be triggered
You be writing, I'm a killer, nigga what?
Fuck is this song? Fuck is my whip?
Fuck up your streams, I got the rips
Skinny and paid, I'm Taylor Swift
We at your job, catch you on shift
Nigga, you gone
I don't like you
Niggas don't want it


[Chorus]
Lord forgive me, I'm sorry
Hit 'em all in the body
Lord forgive me, I'm sorry
I just caught another body
Hit 'em all in the body
I had to get some money

[Outro]
I don't wanna be alone
It's so hard for me to trust you baby
I'm around you baby
I got so much on me
40 I'd drown you baby
I don't wanna drown you baby
I just wanna love you baby
I got too much for me
Oh my god I'm so weak
Holy fuck, I'm lonely