Murder Rate Freestyle 3 lyrics

[Verse]
Bottle of Percs, sound like maracas, yeah
Rose on my hip, Waka Flocka, yeah
I'm in the cut wit' my chopper, yeah
I'm in my Sprinter and I got 'em sprintin'
Usain Bolt, b*tch, I be winnin', yeah
She look like Eve to me, 'cause easily, I got your b*tch sinnin'
Yeah, colder than winter
I put a wood in that b*tch, now that b*tch got a splinter, yeah
You is a rat, 6ix9ine-ass n*gga, no Master Splinter, yeah
b*tch, I'm a winner, b*tch, I'm the best
Metta World Peace, like Ron Artest
Ain't talkin' like a ref, but if you act foul, I'ma hit yo ass wit' this TEC
Flow so smooth, huh
Dance in yo' b*tch and she lovin' my groove, huh
She say that I'm so stylish
She wanna suck my di*k while I keep on my shoes, yeah
Yeah, ayy, Jordan Fours, Fives, Sixes, Sevens and Twos, huh, ayy
Elevens, Nines, well yeah, I do got a few, huh, ayy
Let's go, this beat bang like Metro
Sticky weed like a schedule, huh
I'm a rockstar, heavy metal, huh
Pullin' strings, I feel like Geppetto, huh
I just did a show, let's go, huh
I'm sendin' money to the ghetto
Send it back to my daddy, grand folks
Pull up on him with the new Rambo
I'ma shoot a n*gga with my eyes closed
Click-clack, bow, reload
Gun sing like American Idol
Got my hand on my rifle
You'll get dropped like a Gangster Disciple
n*gga, f*ck the title
Merch on her pus*y like her pus*y Bible
Uh-uh-uh, uh