Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh
Kyllum huh
Matter fact bitch I'm the villain
We put a shot through his head and we drill him
Bullets they enter his body they fill him
Percocet 30 I'm loosing my feelings
She wanna fuck on me, I'm like really?
Run up a bag, ran it up to a milly
I'm in yo' bitch and I fuckin' her kidneys
Chop' finna sing lil' bitch like Whitney
Ain't about it bitch, you ain't talkin' you ain't 'bout it bitch
Wanna fuck I said I'm out of it
He got money it was counterfeit
He broke he a bum, shots with my gun
Click-click-pow make the fuck boy run
Talkin' 'bout bread, but you don't got none
P-pull up in all black just like a nun
Why the fuck they keep on testin' me?
Rich as a bitch, yeah, I'm drinkin' on Hennessy
She wanna fuck, I be fuck, I be heavenly
She want that good, and she said it was heavenly
Huh, fall in this bitch, turnin' 70
She gave good head, we got that chemistry
Chop up, disease, leave him with flapacy
I'm finna make lil' bitch my destiny, huh
He gonna get hit with like 40
Shot to his dome, now his mom she be mourning
Wake up to money, I'm like good morning
Percs on the sleep, he dead, he be snoring
Now I just fuck on his mom she be horny
Now I just toss her away she be boring
Hop in the hellcat lil' bitch it be roaring
She wanna fuck again I'm just like sorry bitch
They gon' say that they was always him
Why you hatin' you should get a grip
Pussy talkin' you gon' shut yo' lip
We finna pop that boy just like a zit
I'm so high I'm off the actavis
Say you hard, but you just actin' bitch
He wanna talk I'm not having it
So he get filled with the whole fuckin' clip
Kyllum, huh
Matter fact bitch I'm the villain
We put a shot through his head and we drill him
Bullets they enter his body they fill him
Percocet 30 I'm loosing my feelings
She wanna fuck on me, I'm like really?
Run up a bag, ran it up to a milly
I'm in yo' bitch and I fuckin' her kidneys
Chop' finna sing lil' bitch like Whitney
Ain't about it bitch, you ain't talkin' you ain't 'bout it bitch
Wanna fuck I said I'm out of it
He got money it was counterfeit
He broke he a bum, shots with my gun
Click-click-pow make the fuck boy run
Talkin' 'bout bread, but you don't got none
P-pull up in all black just like a nun
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh
Kyllum huh, kyllum huh