You pull up to a red light
A man jerks your door open, says
"Out of the car, I'm taking your car"
You say, "Okay, take it, just don't hurt me"
You know what I do?
I pull out the Glock, put it on his forehead
And spill his brains all over the concrete
(You think you know me)

Uh, bitch, I'll write a scene on your life
And I only rap out of spite
Losses and theme on my life
After the steam and the height, dawg

This is my career, not a dice
Never take Ls to a mic
Bitch, I am impervious in type
Soul, jump bucket in the vice
New Glock, leave it up to Christ, uh

Fit for a joke, it need a Harley
Don Callis never been a carney
And you know we showin' up for Darby
Me and Tina, buckin' back tonight
You a demon, we gon' try the mic
New Glock, leave it up to Christ, ahh

Uh, why would I show you my hand?
I'll put on a show on demand
I was on the show, who a fan?
These boys never made a profit
You ain't doin' shit, nigga, stop it
I see what y'all thinkin' but it's gas
Grown man co-signed trash
Long Glock, goin' five mags
Two Glocks tucked in the bag
New switch, they gon' get attached
And they said we never gonna lap
Deathloop, you ain't come to fight
Them tweets cost you a life
You ain't had a hand in the height
(Nah, man)

uh, bitch, I'll write a scene on your life
And I only rap out of spite
Loss is a theme of my life
After the steam and the height, dawg

I'm Arn Anderson

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Barrington DeVaughn Hendricks