PWM

I was sent by the gods to make bad decisions Had to add hella numbers like a mathematician Didn't smoke, I'm still actin' different She thought I was makin' music, bitch, I'm in the motherfuckin' kitchen Cookin' up stir-fry Watch me whip my motherfuckin' wrist and Make a bag disappear, am I a bad spender or a mad magician Is there a difference I cap in all my raps about abundance of bitches New fuckin' britches I leave a motherfuckin' hitlist wishing I keep in all the glitches Nah, shit That's all I'm sayin Somehow all these broke bitches keep playin Shit, nah But that's all I'm sayin Somehow all these dumb bitches keep playin Lock it up I'm talkin' hush All big business got my bag lookin' obvious Stop tryin' to talk when I'm talkin, tryin' to mock it up Tryin' to mock me, but you copy when we polish it Ponder what we do in the dark, you chompin' at the bit, it's not hot What the f*ck you tryin' to accomplish? It can't be this If this is aiming, then you bout to miss All green stones, you can call a bitch asparagus Nah, shit, try to copy this bitch Nah, shit, hey, but Nah, shit, that's crazy Somehow all these dumb bitches tryin' to play me Ay, Shit And that's all I'm sayin Somehow all these dumb Ay I swerve in and out of these lanes that they put me in I never pissed in the pot that they tried to cook me in I got put out in the streets and a genius took me in She taught me all I knew about the shit that I've been talkin' bout I watched over the studies of masters while they were studyin Picked the pieces and put them together till the picture Painted itself and I ain't that shit up, quality Michelin So I don't let these bitches in Cause if I do, these bitches win Nah, shit, that's all I'm sayin Somehow all these broke bitches keep playin Shit, bitch, that's all I'm sayin Somehow all these dumb bitches keep Gold medalists won't settle for lesser than everything Cold hearted, I'm so sorry for all of my blues Block hopping payin' all of my dues Window shoppin' on me lookin' for clues Big bags full of blues Skip the line at six flags, six mags for you goons I show up, I'm so up My fit matchin' my shoes Pulled up and I got nothin' to lose Got a brand new burner, a new number My texts comin' in twos Nah, shit, that's crazy And somehow these dumb bitches try play me, bitch Ay, stop playin' with me Somehow these dumb bitches keep They pull out the zip like, what's your asking price You a goat, but a goat to a god as a sacrifice Stop playin' wit me Bitch Stop playin' wit me