Touchdown - Intellectual

[Intro]

I been seeing a lot of shit motherfuckers ain't think I would get a chance to see

Hrrr, baow, baow

Motherfuckers ain't think I was gon' touchdown or sum

Ayy

[Verse 1]

Bitch, what's up? Let me see what's on your mind

You a killer for the 'gram but I'll still get your ass flat-lined

And you know where I be at so, nigga slide

And I'll promise it'll be the last time

To be honest, you been fuckin' up the vibe for a while

Let me leave a piece of lead in your peace of mind

I ain't never been a ho but you can feel free to try

And I'ma send you right up with your dead guys

Eleven hundred for a pair of Cartiers

I don't wear 'em, I just bought 'em, tryna read between the lines

I can drop a bag and get him deep fried

Like how you want it, through the Cashapp or the Chime?

If it's an issue, tell that nigga get in line

BigKayBeezy been a shooter for a very long time

He a clown, I been waiting for the punchline

Thirty round clip longer than a lunch line

And I heard you un-athletic so it's crunch time

Pussy nigga so pathetic, he ain't on the front lines

Put his homies in the mix and got 'em stumped out

Throw his body in a blender, it's a touch down

[Chorus]

Worked too hard for this

Why would I let you come take some? Bitch

You gon' lose an arm for this

I ain't tryna kill the kids, where the orphanage?

Beezo back out of his mind once again

You don't want no parts of this

Do the dash, watch this big body spin

Double G Wagen, bitch, this a big body Benz

You ain't peep, need to clean off your lens

I don't go back and forth in DMs

What he say? He don't want to part of this

Or your ass can get rolled like that old movie film

And it's up like that old nigga crib

[Interlude]

Damn, fuck that, tell that nigga drop addy

Damn, you say you already got that bitch

Say less, we rockin' out

This this shit right here or is it that one?

Fuck it, I'm finna call him, hold up

[Verse 2]

Where you at, nigga? Pop out, we here

Like a label, I'm tryna find out whats the deal

He must thought I wasn't slime for real

I ain't saggin', that iron on my hip

Baby draco with dragon

That .5 where it spit then it smoke when I empty the clip

No R. Kelly but, nigga, I'm pissed

Machiavelli, I come with the hits

Ayy, play your cards legit

Why would I give you free clout for a diss?

Lil' bro ran me the play, it's a blitz

Run up checks 'fore I get in the mix

I might cop a Patek for my wrist

So this TEC on my neck have a twin

Niggas said it was smoke and I grinned

Aight, fuck it, we spinnin' again

You ain't going to get the message

'Til i hit your crib for the chips and come pop off your lid

I don't know what you thought but that's not what it is

Boy, you better go play with your kids

Or go play with your bitch 'cause I'm not tryna hear no excuse

When that stick get to rappin' for real

No performance, we clappin' for real

And I'm pushin' shit back with the steel, bitch