Plate Scrapers (feat. Sha Hef)

Pop the bottle leave ya sauce leaking Demigods with ya false teaching, just the lost preaching Bend the corner, hear the car screeching A nice life until ya moms grieving, baby moms screaming Half a mil, why the boy thieving, booger sugar got the lord geeking, its gonna cost reaching Heard ya tape ain't hear a bar decent, scrape the plate, it need more seasoning Hot or cold, knock em off the fence F*ck boxing, put u in a box, bullets hitting on em like Errol Spence Why ask the price if you ain't here to spend The work fire, watch Tim dance when lit the stem Break it down This ain't rap this is facts nigga Coping pounds pack dealer, swear my favorite rapper is a vac sealer Tryna get my bag bigger, but won't hesitate to clap niggas F*ck a twitter, the corener to tag niggas Badd 2pac talks Smokers churpin they want a certain batch I'll have my shooters shooting where your curtains at You, not a boss where your workers at Niggas with me catching bodies like a circus act, really though I slide through buff I got Badd with me Told em he good I got that bag with me And every hammer got a 30 round mag with me I got my pack in the lab with me, sipping out the pint like I got chad with me I'm up in sax with my Brooklyn bitch with mad giffies How you winning out the same day that's a tad iffy I was never good at math but count up cash quickly Stash 50, 50 in the blick who tryna clash with me In my hood, I make sure everybody eats I creep through the back door low while everybody sleep It's murder, I leave bloodstains on everybody sheets And make sure at the funeral that they lay everybody neat