{HOOK}
12 on his face
Like what’s the time
10 foreign bitches and I count em
Like a dime
9 on his neck
He’ll break a sweat
7 on the check
Make me wanna spend again
Smoking strong quad pack
Can’t feel my back
Chronic heart attack
From the chronic that I packed
Having alcoholic dreams
Killer like Keem
She sucking like a fiend
While I’m rushing like the cream (rushin)
0:43
(Verse 1)
Ice is on me like I’m skating
Yeah my idol Patrick Bateman
People closest always hating
But the real ones always rating
People round me look like dahmer
He mad I fucked his daughter
Little beans yeah I’m your father
She don’t answer when you call her
Give it up, bitch just stop with your lying
The last guy you fucked rolled over and left crying
I know I saw you yesterday, in my car, you was driving
They’ll think I’m magnotta when I leave the Pussy dying
She think I’m joking when I say I’ll be famous
Well when it happens don’t be calling tryna get my makings
Slim Bean myself and me are the only ones I’m paying
You met your girl 2 years ago and you just now started dating
{HOOK}
12 on his face
Like what’s the time
10 foreign bitches and I count em
Like a dime
9 on his neck
He’ll break a sweat
7 on the check
Make me wanna spend again
Smoking strong quad pack
Can’t feel my back
Chronic heart attack
From the chronic that I packed
Having alcoholic dreams
Killer like Keem
She sucking like a fiend
While I’m rushing like the cream (rushin)
{VERSE 2}
1:56
Excuse me sir
Have you seen my car?
I left it here yesterday when I went in the bar
And when I came back it was empty cold and dark
My key was in the trap, it couldn’t have gone far
And I don’t know which one of you could steal my shit
But when I find out, key empty the clip
I’ll chase yo ass down, run you down the strip
I get it, it’s a grind, tryna hussle like you’re nip
Since April 28th I been looking for that thing
Who’s behind the scenes, who’s pulling the strings?
Then one morning, my phone got a ring
“The car is in the lot, and you better not sing”
2:40
12 on his face
Like what’s the time
10 foreign bitches and I count em
Like a dime
9 on his neck
He’ll break a sweat
7 on the check
Make me wanna spend again
Smoking strong quad pack
Can’t feel my back
Chronic heart attack
From the chronic that I packed
Having alcoholic dreams
Killer like Keem
She sucking like a fiend
While I’m rushing like the cream (rushin)