Gmail - Intellectual

Bay Area, bitch!

(Verse 1)

From the cuts, but I'm boutta make hella bands

Passport finna get a lotta stamps

Better watch out for my pimp hand

Comin at you with a bat like bam-bam

Four honeys, one night, thats a grand slam

She hella broke yo, she need a webcam

You a fake-ass bitch, like a spray tan

I keep it real cuz I’m reppin the motherfuckin fam

Every girl tryna get a fine man

And that’s kind of exactly what I am

So when it comes to who can please ur bitch

I can and you can’t

Everybody knows bands make her dance

And i’m already hooked at first glance

Can I escape dis booty? Not even a chance

At war wit an ass like clash of clans, DAMN!

But she don’t mean nothin to me, just a fuckin tramp

And one look at me make her panties damp

But I’m so fucked up, I can hardly stand

So imma hit that, dip, and light up another gram

I’m slammin this chick, and she gettin so frantic

Never seen one this big, but i think she can handle it

I’m good with the bitches, you’d think i’m a romantic

But I’m just a player and that’s just semantics

Set fire to the booth when I spit

You can tell from my eyes that I’m lit

My dialect finna get violent

So deadly you can hear the sirens

Purple in a cup and i’m sippin

Better hide the women and children

Took a funny lookin pill and I’m trippin

King Midas up in this buildin bitch!

(Chorus)

Bitches hittin me up on my Gmail

But homie don’t give a fuck bout no females

Yeah, maybe I’ll let em suck on this D, hell

Gettin head in my truck, in BL

(on my gmail, on my gmail, bitches hittin me up on my gmail) 2x

(Verse 2)

Math class got dropped fast

Gonna focus on that pepper jack

Shoot a bitch for cash, like gat-gat

Make a bitch shake her ass like clap-clap

I’ve only scoped about a half a track

But I can already tell your shits whack

And even tho you’re bitch is hella fat

I’mma gonna jizz on her back, fap-fap

We tha wolf-pack, we takin fat snaps

You smokin crack, just like a hood rat

And I rap fast, check my fat stacks

Cross my path and get bitch slapped, shit

Whoopin ass and takin names, like I never have

The bitches up in here got phenomenal racks

But if they gonna roll wit us they make a verbal pact

That I can hit it from the back, that’s an ass tax

Get out the way bitch, I’m comin up fast

Try to fuck wit me and get laughed at

Bet you wish u were me cuz ur comin up last

I’m too damn rad for these sad twacks

On my lawnmower wit a six pack

Got a j and i’m ready to hit that

We in the mountains like holler back

Takes a loc cutthroat to acknowledge that

Your girl and I are gettin hella schlapped

And I think she’s wearing your snapback

But I’m better than you so she’s sucking my dick

Like it’s the only thing she’s good at

Next thing you know I’m in her ass

And she did it. didn’t even have to ask