[Intro: KIL]
Yeah, he broke, he don't get it
I might paint a picture, ayy
He don't get it
He can't spend it like a penny pincher, yeah
Why he bitter?
His bitch on my hip, just like a pistol, yeah
Why he bitter?
He don't get no dap, just middle fing—
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, yeah, hahaha
Yeah, you broke (Yeah)
He don't get it (Damn ready)
He want pack (Ayy)
He got reggie (Uhh)
Talking sets (Yeah)
He don't rep it (Ayy)
Up that pole, like like I'm— (Killa)
[Verse 1: KIL]
Stripes on me, just like the Adidas jacket
They see that I'm with the green like I'm the Packers
I empty the register, watchin' the back
And the time runnin' out as the bag gettin' fatter
I hear the po-po, I'm hittin' the door
I'm countin' up numbers, they call me a dork
They never saw it, they can't get a bite from my plate
'Cause I never eat soup with a fork
Even the prettiest flower got thorns
Salt looks like sugar, so you crave them more
Money elastic like it's acrobatic
He's like a TV 'cause he don't want the static
I'm burnin 'em like it's a bong and a pack
And I shake 'em up like a spray can before taggin'
I'm with the attitude, Efil4Zaggin
I'm going full spray like I put the mag' in
[Chorus: KIL]
Yeah, he broke, he don't get it
I might paint a picture, ayy
He don't get it
He can't spend it like a penny pincher, yeah
Why he bitter?
His bitch on my hip, just like a pistol, yeah
Why he bitter?
He don't get no dap, just middle finger
[Verse 2: ZOTiYAC]
Ayy, yo' bitch she ain't cute, she want fuck me
Bitch, don't touch me, 'member when she tried to dump me
Now that lil' bitch would be lucky
I pay attention, I don't think so, I got money
You moving that work, I take that like a puffy
White girl off the coke, this snow bunny is stuffy
You callin' yo' wifey, I call that bitch Buffy
That ho a vampire, the way that she suck me
Yo' bitch off the leash like huskies
I'm a dog, don't want no puppies
.30 Glock, but it ain't rusty
It still cock back, it's just muddy
You is stupid if you trust me
Friendly fire for your buddy
He ain't got no quarrel like Bubby
Get that boy a fuckin' Snuggie
Said that little boy need a hug
I'm sweeping you and that shit under the rug
Been a long time since I picked up a dub
Said it's been a long time since I ain't been a plug, huh?
Do it look like I give fucks?
If it do, I apologize, it's a mix up
Either I'm clearing the air, or we air this shit out in the motherfuckin' club
We don't like talkin', we like to leave coffins
Please don't pick us if you don't do this often
I level up when I fly out to Austin
All my shit from Vegas to Britain to Boston
From Cali' to Kansas
Wherever I'm landin', my language always expanding
Big Ben Franklins, they talkin' in Spanish
The last man standing, yo' bitch understand it
[Chorus: KIL]
Yeah, he broke, he don't get it
I might paint a picture, ayy
He don't get it
He can't spend it like a penny pincher, yeah
Why he bitter?
His bitch on my hip, just like a pistol, yeah
Why he bitter?
He don't get no dap, just middle finger
[Verse 3: KIL]
Boy don't want beef, so don't go to McDonald's
He kissin' the barrel like it's Spin The Bottle
My ex hit my phone up like "It's been a while"
When I dip the scene, there's blood on the tiles
Boy tell me, "Hit up the link in my bio"
I'm not 'bout that pussy shit like I'm a gyno
Bitch hit me up, just don't let her guy know
She screamin' out "Killa," it sound like a high note, ayy
That boy still bitter to this day, ayy
I gave her pipe by mistake
Homie get caught up like instinct
Beatin' the beat up then send it to Sensei
Bitch on my hip, no pistol
But she still swallow my kids though
She want to pop for my endo, ayy
She want to pop for my endo
I'm under pressure, you see me walking on a tight rope
Side note, hope you know I'm certified psycho
I'ma pull up, and then skirt off on a little bike, ho
Never a pussy like you be drillin' down a dyke, ho
I'ma be ballin', then singing out like I'm Michael
I was still pullin' thotties when I was only 5'4
But I'd be tellin' 'em shorty can't be my type though
And I be killin' this shit, wait, what do I know?
[Chorus: KIL]
Yeah, he broke, he don't get it
I might paint a picture, ayy
He don't get it
He can't spend it like a penny pincher, yeah
Why he bitter?
His bitch on my hip, just like a pistol, yeah
Why he bitter?
He don't get no dap, just middle finger
