TRENCHANT (feat. Melly. W) [Freestyle]

Free the guys, locked up for homicide and other shit Ice the wrist, might as well monetize the body cause you ain't got no other shit Who the f*ck is this, playing music songs and all that shit while I'm rapping Niggas are distracted, distraction, distraction, distraction Aye, I say, let's get two bitches, pull em up and see just what happened Niggas never see the lost and fairy tales of magic Let's go ahead and go to Neverland and Neverland cause we forever young and you ain't never Seen whatever happened Let's cover up all the scenes, let's go ahead, go ahead, pop out and we shoot up at police Let's go ahead, ice the rollie out cause that's just all we need Niggas never know like what they know until they fucking need Only thing I need is food, water, hoes, and a bitch Only thing I need to do is get my money and go rich Only thing I have to do is pay attention Niggas never fucking listen, in my adolescence I been saying shit, I ain't never had distractions Niggas think they really have it, bitch they think they really had shit Hold up, why you glad bitch, cause we in the same dicker man Hold up, you ain't even fucking seeing through the thick of it Niggas be in the hood, they fucking whole life Niggas doing so wrong, don't even know right, but left two turns probably makes a whole Right So I ain't even know, I know the fucking day turn night I know the day turns to night, but that nigga feel All these bullets when I hit his head, that nigga left a bill He on the ground bleeding now, my nigga got no gills Swimming in his pool of blood, my nigga know I did it real Hold up, I just had to keep it real Who that talking in the chair, that ain't no Dr. Phil He just my fucking therapist, the way I fucking stare and will Smith and Weston in this bitch, my niggas know I gotta kill Gotta kill, but my nigga on that drill music Who the fucking in the booth, my niggas know I feel music When I feel it, I just hop on it and I just gotta do it Gotta speak my mind, I put my words and body mind into it Hopping on the mic, my nigga call it parlay The way I parked up in this bitch, the boys they call it mayday Put the granola in his head, that Weston's parfait Mess it up, put the yogurt outside, are you okay Blueberries, I'm talking fruit though Who that is, nigga got the scoop though, for this and ice cream But it's cold, my niggas frosty freeze, like a fanboy in chum chum My nigga get the cup please, unlimited refills of this fucking gat Who that is talking shit, my nigga I bet I'll throw it back But we talking bitches, the way I had to put it back In the cup, had to bring it down, you know that's after math After math, hold up, he had a heart attack When he felt his chest, my niggas know they fucking feeling that But I ain't out of breath This ain't no asthma attack