Counting Down

They like, "Arab chill"
I'm just tryna kill the beat like any other
Never show no fear, or no mercy
To no other sucker
Feel like Allen Iverson, I cross them'
I'm not at the Rucker
One hand on the bop, we'll hope this ain't my last supper
I'm tryna kill every beat, call me Micheal Myers
I always joke in my raps, I guess I play with fire
Always staying up, nigga know I'm never tired
You a dramatic lil nigga, pretty little liars
Why you acting so damn gay
Why you acting girly
Since you is a demon, I'm finna send you to hell early
Finna give him one to head, now look his hair curly
Call him surely, I be catching plays like I'm Todd Gurley
Call me Pop Smoke, cause this gun finna shake the room
My name Arab, cause I'm really gon' make a boom
Leave him with two X's on his eyes, like a cartoon
Caught him early, in the morning
No I'm lying, afternoon
I said we caught him in the afternoon
I said we caught him in the afternoon
I bet he finna meet God soon
I bet he finna meet God soon
Hop back on the track, these niggas know I'm still killing
I'm spitting too much heat out the room, think the paint peeling
They all know I'm way too raw I'm finna break the ceiling
Thirty in my lap, lil nigga, no you not drilling
One bullet, now that nigga sleep
My gun Bill Cosby
I got thirty sticks up in this crib
Bet a nigga try me
Racing, I won't crash for this bread
Like i'm Ricky Bobby
You can woof, lil' nigga, but don't run when I call Rocky
One-Two
My niggas after you
Three-Four
My niggas at your door
Five-Six
Don't get caught in the mix
Seven-Eight
They make your name a date
Don't nobody care
Till a nigga dead
I got Thirty's, Fourties', Fifty's, Eat the one, knock of your head
Now that nigga seeing red
He prolly think he dead
Why did they get caught in the mix, if niggas scared?
I don't know nigga, but I know they keep running
I got Thirty's, Fourties', and these hollows keep coming
Tell the Jakes, free DZ, niggas know how we bumming
If a nigga think I'm nothing, ima have to show him something
Show him a magic trick, ain't talking your mirror
Finna do him, just like Bloody Mary, look in the mirror
Put the pressure to his chest, and I'm just making it clear
No this ain't no sad song, but I'm causing him tears
I'm on a tear, through this rap game
Matter fact, it's a damn shame
Put some respect on my damn name
Y'all lame
Forty shots to his damn brain
Now that nigga leaking out, I know it's hard to maintain
Know it's hard to maintain
We just broke his membrane
We gon' really make him freeze up ain't talking freeze frame
'Sume my bars, too cold I might just get freeze brain