Chris Travis

"Why So Serious?"

b*tch n*gga talk sh*t
Get hit with the Darth b*tch
I can't fall in love
I ain't got no heart b*tch
Boy you is a scrub
You won't make it far b*tch
Pull up in the car, (?) b*tch
Hold my lungs b*tch
Hold my drumstick
Hatin' n*gga run up on me?
Then he done quick!
n*ggas wanna be friends -
I ain't the one b*tch
Pull up to yo' front door
(Doo doo!) at yo' lungs b*tch
I am not the one you n*ggas wanna f*ck with
Indestructible, b*tch I'm king you never done sh*t
I won't ever lose, if I do - it's to the sun b*tch
You won't get a bruise, tryna scratch me - not the one b*tch

f*ck you bums
Hop out wit' a drum, ay
Number one, but f*ck a number one, ay
I play chess, but n*gga I don't play sh*t
At yo chest, but aimin' at yo head b*tch
At yo chest, but feel it in yo neck b*tch
More respect? Then boy you better take it
Ay I'm done, so there's nothing you can say trick
She want my di*k, I told your b*tch she gotta take it!

Like a (?)
I got yo' b*tch naked
New plates, in the crib, look amazing
(?) gracious, you n*ggas outdated
You want angus, but you ain't even famous
n*gga nameless, chiefin' till you're brainless
On the danger, the sergeant gon' need training
You want the percs, but boy you can't sustain it
f*ck everybody I'm the truth and I remain it, b*tch...

Ay, b*tch!

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