Kira Perez (BONUS)

Don't ask about my shoes boy you don't know 'bout Golf le Fleur Fake black cats boy you walk 'round in Jordan poor's I can pass the rock to Abe or Chris I don't even have to score You in the crib pissed cuz yo dad just removed yo door Remind me when we done with the song to add ad libs You fucked up had a baby go and get his ass a bib Damn matter fact get his ass a dad It's too much echo in the room need to get it padded stat When it's garbage time I'm sittin' on the bench I'm not paddin' stats You fucked up at the pawn shop tryna sell yo tats I'm finna pull a rack out on cam like Kira Perez Ridin' round the city eyes peeled steer clear of the feds The f*ck you got a gluten allergy never seen you with bread Why you need a explanation even Stevie can see what I said In the club underage thank God the bouncer let me in Chris fake say six three thank God he didn't check again Where the scammers at need a good way to test a bin Absent minded at the mic I gotta rhyme with what word again Uh switch the beat My pockets only thing I'm getting pregnant I am not the father Cut the cryin' on IG about yo rent and go chase a dollar Feels like you only goin' backwards in yo life call you Lame Impala At the mufuckin' uh in DC eatin' lobster pasta Freestylin' standin' at the mic what should I rap about Finna beat the beat in one round have it tappin' out Goddamn you hear the 808's yeah they slappin' out Bumper comin' off tie it up then I'm stabbin' out Why you baldin' tryna smack at college students you a predator My fake ID real bad I just used the photo editor Two thousand and thirteen I'm coming eight hundred credit score Ah credit score I wanna scrap but he got a hammer I'm not fightin' Thor Had to move out the crib because Chris tried to fight the doors