Bài hát First Person Shooter Báo Lỗi

First-person shooter mode

We turnin' your song to a funeral

To them niggas that say they wan' off us

You better be talkin' 'bout workin' in cubicles

Yeah them boys had it locked

But I knew the code

Lot of niggas debatin' my numeral

Not the three not the two

I'm the U-N-O

Yeah

Numero U-N-O

Me and Drizzy this shit like the Super Bowl

Man this shit damn near big as the

Big as the what

Big as the what

Big as the what

Big as the Super Bowl

But the difference is it's

Just two guys playin' shit

That they did in the studio

Niggas usually send they verses back to me

And they be terrible

Just like a two-year-old

I love a dinner with some fine women

When they start debatin' about who the G.O.A.T

I'm like go on 'head

Say it then who the G.O.A.T.

Who the G.O.A.T.

Who the G.O.A.T.

Who the G.O.A.T.

Who you bitches really rootin' for

Like a kid that act bad

From January to November nigga

It's just you and Cole

Big as the what

Big as the what

Big as the what

Big as the Super Bowl

Niggas so thirsty to put me in beef

Dissectin' my words

And start lookin' too deep

I look at the tweets

And start suckin' my teeth

I'm lettin' it rock 'cause I love the mystique

I still wanna get me a song with YB

Can't trust everything that you saw on IG

Just know if I diss you

I'd make sure you know

That I hit you like

I'm on your caller ID

I'm namin' the album The Fall Off

It's pretty ironic

'cause it ain't no fall off for me

Still in this bitch gettin' bigger

They waitin' on the kid

To come drop like a father to be

Love when they argue the hardest MC

Is it K-Do Is it Aubrey Or me

We the big three like we started a league

But right now

I feel like Muhammad Ali

Huh yeah yeah huh-huh

Yeah Muhammad Ali

The one that they call

When they shit ain't connectin' no more

Feel like I got a job in IT

Rhymin' with me is the biggest mistake

The Spider-Man meme

Is me lookin' at Drake

It's like we recruited your homies

To be demon deacons

We got 'em attending your wake

Hate how the game got away

From the bars man

This shit like a prison escape

Everybody steppers well fuck it

Then everybody breakfast

And I'm 'bout to clear up my plate

When I show up

It's motion picture blockbuster

The G.O.A.T. with the golden pen

The top toucher

The spot rusher sprayed his whole shit up

The crop duster

Not Russia but apply pressure

To your cranium

Cole's automatic when aimin' 'em

With The Boy in the status a stadium

Ayy I'm 'bout to I'm 'bout to

I'm 'bout to yeah

Yeah

I'm 'bout to click out on this shit

I'm 'bout to click whoa

I'm 'bout to click out on this shit

I'm 'bout to click whoa

I'm down to click down you hoes

And make a crime scene

I click the trigger on the stick

Like a high beam

Man I was Bentley wheel whippin'

When I was 19

She call my number

Leave her hangin' she got dry-cleaned

She got a Android

Her messages is lime green

I search one name

And end up seein' 20 tings

Nadine Christine Justine

Kathleen Charlene Pauline Claudine

Man I pack 'em in this phone like some sardines

And they send me naked pictures

It's the small things

You niggas still takin' pictures on a Gulfstream

My youngins richer

Than you rappers and they all stream

I really hate that you been sellin'

Them some false dreams

Man if your pub was up for sale

I buy the whole thing

Will they ever give me flowers

Well of course not

They don't wanna have that talk

'cause it's a sore spot

They know The Boy

The one they gotta boycott

I told Jimmy Jam

I use a GRAMMY as a door stop

Girl gave me some head

Because I need it

And if I fuck with you

Then after I might eat it what

Niggas talkin' 'bout

When this gon' be repeated

What the fuck bro

I'm one away from Michael

Nigga beat it nigga beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it what

Beat it ayy beat it what

Don't even pay me

Back on none them favors

I don't need it