Mcgriddles - Intellectual

[Intro]

Tuned up!

This sound like [?]

Catch him in that drive-thru, we cook shit up like McGriddles

Nigga pressed me 'bout his bitch, his eyes got popped up like her pimples

You got money, why you stressed out? Wish it really was that simple

I got PTSD, demons, I can't get them off my mental

Before I get sentimental, I'll probably kill who hurt me

Every time we pulled up, we made niggas dance like they was sturdy

So addicted to this grind, like you would think it came wit' pеrkies

Bitch, don't try to fuck me now, ain't wanna fuck when I was dirty

I got bands now

Wеnt and bought some sticks, attached the drums, you know that band loud

Yo' bitch love my teeth, I ain't put diamonds in my damn mouth

I been in my duffle, I'm gon' eat, without a damn doubt

Do this for the bros, don't give a fuck about no damn clout

Put the city on, bitch, I ain't never seen no damn drought

Left my Glock at home, you could still come see what these hands 'bout

Shot so many times I thought it jammed, but damn, I ran out

O.T.M., this Out The Mud, ain't never put my hands out

I'ma kill myself before I go out like a lick

If you take from off my plate, then I'ma make you eat this blick

New Balenci's don't got laces, you tell me why would I trip?

You ain't match when I had grams, so you can't smoke up out my zips

Bitch, then my heart got cold as fuck

I ain't scared of shit, come by my doley if I'm showin' up

Bro run up and blow him one

You niggas owed us one

I know I get hot-headed but the gang worse, I'm the coldest one

We givin' out toe tags

Drums and guns in my tote bag

You fake, I know that, I

Marry money, no romance, I

Be alone, got no friends, I

Go hard, got no plans, I

Need you some help, I

Me by all myself, I

Catch him in that drive-thru, we cook shit up like McGriddles

Nigga pressed me 'bout his bitch, his eyes got popped up like her pimples

You got money, why you stressed out? Wish it really was that simple

I got PTSD, demons, I can't get them off my mental