[Intro]
This a $crim beat
DJ $crim with that 808
[Verse 1: Ruby Rougarou]
They figure me a dead motherfucker
Leaving motherfucker's heads stuck under the covers
But I wonder if they know I got a $uicide kit?
Granting me a death wish, razor blade slidin' up my wrist, uh
Unleash the lead from my pistol into my head
Pourin' Cristal on my dead body
Teflon Don, leave you lookin' fresh, sprawled out on my lawn
Don't call me Gotti, bitch, my name is Oddy, or Ruby da Cherry
No, this not blood, it's just muscadine made from the juice of the berry
Take a little sip, poisoning the pit
Half-dead motherfuckers throwin' up the click
$lick $loth tellin' me, "We got to dip"
Calling on Shenron, grant me a wish
I wish that you could enter the dragon, the chambers of the triple six
So I can stop the bragging, that will never happen
I'm in the back of a wagon slittin' my wrists
Wave a blood stain, white flag, dragging my body into the mist (—to the mist)
Take your best shot
Aim it, cock it, know you're gonna miss
Not leaving a note, I'm leaving a list
$uicideboy, bitch
[Verse 2:Ruby da Cherry]
If it was up to me, I would fuck it up
Fuck everything and bust a nut
Yung Mutt never smiles, got to cut me one
On my flip phone, dialin' nine one-one
I need a pick me up, so come and pick me up
So I can pick me up about sixty bucks worth of sticky nugs
Just a quick re-up, then I'm up, up, and away
Bitch, I'm grey, take me to my fucking grave
Bitch, I'm broke
Like the bone in your back, get the fuck up off my wave
Let me drown in peace, bitch
Bring a gun to the beach, bitch
Blow my brains away
Grey matter scattered in the sand, surfing blood-soaked waves
[Verse 3:Blanco Leopardo ]
I walk up in this bitch like it's my momma house (It's Hustle)
Watch how we hit below, we hit the club and shut it down
Can't compete with a hustler boy (Squad), throw in the towel
Me and my Nina see we partnered like Keenan and Kel (I'm mean)
My cash up stack racked, whole team flossed up (Team)
Ching-ching, check my style, know you see I'm bossed up (I know you see me, bitch)
Cash on his head that get him chopped up quick (It's on, man)
He talking war but don't think he got enough clips (Oh yeah)
Bet for the cash that your pussy ass play snitch (It's Hustle)
We snatch and dash just to make your fam, to be rich (It's Hustle)
East Memphis man, I can show you pain real quick (It's Hustle)
Watch who you playing wit', lil puss
[Verse 3:Yung Mutt]
Ayy, $lick, it's yo' conscience
See you buildin' up violence, you itchin' to murder
Itchin' to murk 'em
You know what I gotta say, "kill 'em all and get locked away"
Kill yourself and just end this pain, you gon' burn in hell anyway
Fuck the preachers and what they say
Grip the A to the K, and then let it spray
Grip the MAC, grrat! And just go insane
Grab that bitch, fuck her once, and don't ever call
Get that money, then you say, "fuck 'em we ball"
They don't want you to win, just always fall
But I'm tourin' for spring, summer, and the fall
Wake up and pop me a Adderall
Wake up and pop me two Adderall
Got the sticks, and we don't let that ladder fall
[Verse 4: 40 Blunts]
Yuh, yuh, yuh
$outh $ide $uicide, kill yourself, ho (Ayy)
Say you gettin' money (Yuh), but your numbers don't show (Yuh, yuh), you a liar
Baseball bat fully wrapped in barbed wire (Yuh, yuh, yuh)
For anyone that's tryna get by us (Bitch)
I been thinkin' a lot (Yuh, yuh), I see these rappers tryna get at my spot
Robb told me (Yuh), "You gotta get it how you live" (Yuh, yuh)
Told that bitch (Bitch, bitch), "You better get up out my biz" (Bitch)
Pickle-breath-ass ho with a face like thizz (Shut the fuck up)
You don't want no issue with nose seen more blow (Yuh, yuh)
Than most nose seen a tissue (Yuh, yuh)
I got anxiety so I can't really do a interview (Yuh, bitch, yuh)
Don't come close to me (Shut the fuck up)
I'm not the one to really do it how it's 'posed to be (Yuh, yuh, yuh)
Independent, tell that label to get over me (Yuh)
I'm over here with my peers, gettin' rich point blank (Bitch, bitch)
Before I bring her to the crib (Yuh), make sure that bitch don't stink (Yuh, yuh, bitch)
Ain't no rules to the game, talk how you want (Yuh)
Walk how you want (Yuh), my job is the shit
I used to clean up shit from the rim of the toilet (Bitch)
Now I'm gettin' money, I don't gotta pack a pistola (Yuh, yuh, yuh)
Okay, maybe (Maybe)
'Cause jealousy make a man go crazy (Go crazy)
Money make a motherfucker hate me
One thousand bitches, they all wanna date me
[Verse 3: PWGood]
Creamket_, Nikok
Wolting, Pooshka
Wlogys, Ега
Rilaveon, FireCub_
DuckDomestos, Дремо
Rilaveon номер 2
В этом куплете рифма говна
Tarsier_Philip_, TimaFrolov
Сабы кончаются, но трек не готов
Ну давай, давай, в чат спамь, нападай
Petux_2, vassimal
Эти ники кое-как срифмовал
[Verse 6:DuckBoy ]
Bitch, I be that broke boy
Two scripts half-full make a full script, mean I'm runnin' out
Bitch, I be a ho toy, making two bad bitches bashful
Comin' out they nutshell, pass me the rag, fool
Bitch, I be that dope boy
Smoke cash, ash snowin' on the broke glass
Throat slashed, now I got a blood-soaked rash
Go bash in a fuck boy's skull, wearin' no mask, toe tag
Make the rope last, don't ask
Uh, al-all of my vices the devil
Fuck all this nice shit, I meddle in murderous temptation
Roll up the windows and push down the pedal
Burn a cigarette in my wrist, that 7th Ward shit
Fuck a bitch, then dip, no tint, gas tank on E
'64 Impala at the bottom of a cliff, bitch
[Verse 7:Lil' Uzi the Anti-Christ ]
Nigga down here on and you suckas mane
But don't get crazy cuz you knows we keep the auto-mag
You pushing daisy's never the false shit I spit the facts
'Cause dog, I'm knowing I pull on ya bitch I'm riding fat
That ho is going we the trillest of the trilly trill
You suckas muggin staying down about a milly mil
This ghetto thuggin' got me paid, cowards running lipers
They say I'm flossin' ho my name tasting like some shiter
Went in your jaw and throw these bullets straight at'cha grill
Commits to walking from the scenery I keeps it real
I do no talking just stupidity I let ya squeal
You get the squaking up in yo yard with the wood dog
38 barking see yo tounges and the root of evil
That's in the bible dig and dirt there should be no sequel
Thats to your title rumors leakin' out like a faucet
Stank like a burger with some onions or some hot gossip for that I murda