Menu lyrics

[Intro: Drakeo the Ruler]
Move how I say, put a drum on a n*gga
Ayy, wrap this b*tch up, I'm finna mummy a n*gga
Killers on standby and they come with a jiffy
A hundiddy in the chop, but it came with fifty
I'll flatline a n*gga, ask, God is my witness
n*ggas say they send shots, but apparently missed me
BandCamp, lil' n*gga, I came in with a stiffler
He got [?], got me nailin' his sister (Mike done did it, he make it, I'ma kill him)

[Chorus: Drakeo the Ruler]
I came in the club with a drum on me
I can't love a b*tch 'cause I'm cold hearted
Put him on the menu 'cause he stole from me
Get a n*gga whacked, don't write a song on it
I came in the club with a drum on me
I can't love a b*tch 'cause I'm cold hearted
Put him on the menu 'cause he stole from me
Get a n*gga whacked, don't write a song 'bout it

[Verse 1: PettyPetty]
Ayy
Fifty-ball and it's coming with a stick on it
n*gga dumb if he thinking he my big homie
Couple styrofoam, and I keep the blick on me
A n*gga got a couple pounds, flip the script on him
I need all that
I just f*cked a n*gga b*tch, please don't call back
Blues falling on the court when we ballin'
Got some strips, add it up, it was all mad
Glock and it's all bad
Keep the Glock on me, enter twenty mud
Yeah, my n*gga took a Perc', then he threw it up
Like some gang signs
I just f*cked a bad b*tch with no hangtime
I'ma put him on the menu if he say somethin'
[?] pinky sh*t real, these is play guns (Damn)
.223, when I shoot it, I'ma fade away
Thugging in the streets, yeah, I made a way
Yah, yah
[Chorus: Drakeo the Ruler & 1TakeJay]
I came in the club with a drum on me
I can't love a b*tch 'cause I'm cold hearted
Put him on the menu 'cause he stole from me
Get a n*gga whacked, don't write a song 'bout it
I came in the club with a drum on me
I can't love a b*tch 'cause I'm cold hearted
Put him on the menu 'cause he stole from me (Wait, hol' up, I'ma finna turn this b*tch up)
Get a n*gga whacked, don't write a song 'bout it

[Verse 2: 1TakeJay]
I ain't talkin' 'bout no f*ckin' fruit, but I just ordered berries
Spikes on the top, but the bottom look like Bloody Mary
Thirty hundreds on a pair of shoes, this sh*t getting scary
I'll blow a n*gga life savings if somebody dare me
I heard your lil' songs, they was sweet, but that ain't how you living (It ain't)
Should've said she was your b*tch, I done already did it
I can't argue with you, you just pulled up in a Honda Civic
Who keep letting bums in the party? I said "strictly b*tches"
Got your b*tch on the menu, she hot and ready
She an expert with the meat like she work at a deli
Too many b*tches calling, can't keep up, this sh*t getting hectic
Bad b*tches only, I can't let no weak b*tch text me (That's out)

[Chorus: Drakeo the Ruler]
I came in the club with a drum on me
I can't love a b*tch 'cause I'm cold hearted
Put him on the menu 'cause he stole from me
Get a n*gga whacked, don't write a song 'bout it
I came in the club with a drum on me
I can't love a b*tch 'cause I'm cold hearted
Put him on the menu 'cause he stole from me
Get a n*gga whacked, don't write a song 'bout it