​lame lyrics

[Chorus]
I–
Yes, I gotta talk my sh*t
Yes, I've been on top of sh*t
Sex, I get a lot of it
Checks, I get a lot of it~
Bad b*tch, she from Yale, f*cking on a college kid
See this wrist, cold as hell, I peeped just how hot it get
And my b*tch cold as hell, I heard yours is [?]
I'm with AB, we got guns, we be on some mobbin' sh*t
You don't got cash, got no funds, you can't even buy no sh*t
New bad b*tch just like Cobain, through her brain, through her brain
You was just twin, you switched, you lame
That sh*t lame, that sh*t lame
Look how f*cking far we came
Look up, we got stars to claim
Cook up, whips and cars and chains
We sacrificed for all we gained~

[Verse]
Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up
This new Wock, Wock, Wock, finna pour up, pour up (Eugh)
You tryn' talk, talk, I'm not, I don't know ya, know ya
Avianne all my brothers, sh*t like Minnesota (Cold~)
I put 10 bands in my watch, and 20 in my soda
I gеt high, I'm smoking za, this good dope in my roll-up
Everyday, I was working hard, ain't have no choicе but to go up
You so sick I ain't answer that call, lil' b*tch, you might as well throw up, up, up, up
Brother f*ck you up
Been surpassed, can't reach my level, you not tough enough
Bro was acting weird to everybody, I knew something's up
Slime, it's f*ck yo' ass, used everybody, that– that sh*t yuck as f*ck
I was good as f*ck to everybody, and I'm still f*cked up
Going through it, I ain't tell nobody, I just up the cup
I just up the blunt
None these f*cking underground rappers want a 1-on-1
Most these n*ggas steal-my-sound rappers, they my f*cking sons
Half these n*ggas get around rappers, make one f*cking song
Been produced for n*ggas out your league, what the f*ck you on?
And I tried to come back, just to see what the f*ck you on
Guess you sayin' the love all gone, cool
[Chorus]
I–
Yes, I gotta talk my sh*t
Yes, I've been on top of sh*t
Sex, I get a lot of it
Checks, I get a lot of it~
Bad b*tch, she from Yale, f*cking on a college kid
See this wrist, cold as hell, I peeped just how hot it get
And my b*tch cold as hell, I heard yours is [?]
I'm with AB, we got guns, we be on some mobbin' sh*t
You don't got cash, got no funds, you can't even buy no sh*t
New bad b*tch just like Cobain, through her brain, through her brain
You was just twin, you switched, you lame
That sh*t lame, that sh*t lame
Look how f*cking far we came
Look up, we got stars to claim
Cook up, whips and cars and chains
We sacrificed for all we gained~