Yeah, yeah
Yeah, I broke out of prison
And I'm on a mission
To murder your children
'Cause that's how I'm feelin', yeah
Yeah, yeah, .45 in my seat
Got Dua Lipa on repeat
Blastin' out my fuckin' speakers with your girl between my feet
Drinkin' Vodka in my fuckin' car, think I need a Lyft (ooh)
'Bout to turn myself into the police like a gift
'Bout to spin around your house a hundred times like a gift
'Bout to do a line of cocaine in front of Wendy's
'Bout to go up to a homeless man and ask him for a twenty
How many times did I break out of prison? I say many
So much clout, you can build a cloud with all my clout
Sell my body for a Belle Delphine shoutout
Sell my ass for a fuckin' bus ticket to Jamaica
Sell my soul for a couple bucks in the communist papers
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, B-Dizzle, and the B stands for B, I'm B-Dizzle
'Bout to break into the White House and launch a fuckin' missile
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
'Bout to break into your mom's house and slap her with a pistol
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
'Bout to pull up to your son and sell him a bag of crystals
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
'Bout to pull up to your dog and blow my fuckin' whistle
I ain't never doin' no crimes I ain't have to commit
And the police tried to pin me with some fake bullshit
Call my lawyer up, 'bout to throw him 20k
When I was in the pen, people thought that I was gay
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Bitch, I pull up to your teacher, and I tattle on your bestie
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Bitch, I pull up on your father, and I'm ticklin' his testes
Yeah, yeah, hehehe
Bitch, I pull up on your nanny, and I teach her 'bout investin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Bitch, I pull up on your children with that Smith and fuckin' Wesson
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah