Dope Fiend (Freestyle) lyrics

[Verse]
I’m a dope fiend
Low on protein
You in the nosebleeds, I got front row seats
Nah, f*ck the tickets, I’m the one on stage
You keep talkin' all that sh*t
But I’m the one who’s gettin' paid
f*ck school, I’ll stay dumb
I’ll f*ck Gracie Abrams
I called her out on her bullsh*t, now that b*tch tryna play dumb
b*tch told me I was a bad boyfriend
But she was the fake one
I told her that I wanted to fix things
But she wanted to breakup (Like, uh)
Got MATHIASTYNER producin' this sh*t
Got a ruler for a mag and I’m shootin' in this b*tch
I got River Polley tryna do molly
I got all of these b*tches on me
Got yo momma lookin' like a tsunami
f*ck her from the back and yo dad caught me
I be in my room eatin' Cheetos and Cool Ranch Doritos
Three freak hoes, I need those
They wanna suck up on three toes
They don’t follow the street code
Got infinite b*tches, I must’ve guessed a f*ckin' cheat code—or somethin'
b*tches on my di*k like it’s nothin'
McDonald’s Breakfast goin' crazy: Sausage Egg McMuffin
She say that she love me, but I really think she bluffin'
She wanna put handcuffs on, she into cuffin'
Freak in the sheets like McLovin
I’ll f*ck Brenda Polley, don’t care 'bout her husband—I love it
I’ll give a River a new baby brother
Yes, another
She ain’t even my main lover
But I’ll still smother his mother with some butter
I took a trip to CVS
Bad b*tch wanna f*ck—she ain’t seen me yet
She gon' be disappointed when she first see me walkin'
'Cause I’m only 5’11”, she expected Dennis Rodman (And I)
Go crazy when I walk in the b*tch
I ain’t even gotta f*ckin' talk in this b*tch
Got a Glock on my hip and I’m ready to switch
You don’t know anybody that can do it like this
You already know that I got infinite flows
Lookin' at my Snapchat, I got infinite hoes
Put the barrel to your nose, you gon' be ten toes—down in the ground
You won’t make a f*ckin' sound