War! lyrics

[Chorus: Quadeca]
These shoes are from Christian Dior, yeah (Huh)
I'm not a kid anymore, huh (No, I'm not, b*tch)
Look at what I did to the store (What I did)
They don't make this anymore, huh (They do not!)
They don't make sh*t like this anymore (They do not!)
If you gon' try to diss, best be sure, huh (Best be sure, huh)
Cleanin' up rappers, this sh*t a chore, huh, yeah (Sweep, sweep)
If you want war then it's war, b*tch (Then it's war, huh)

[Verse 1: Quadeca]
You ain't a part of this, usin' my artifice
I put my heart in this
Look where I started, I ain't need a starter kit (No, no)
I've been a starter since in kindergarten, and
Who are you harder than? You are not harder than me (Huh?)
I changed my numbers, I'm harder to reach (Who?)
I turn my pages, I'm harder to read
Say you know me, but I find that hard to believe (Yeah)
Oh
Sorry I'm not nice (Sorry)
They like, "Oh, he just came through in some Nikes!"
But these sh*ts is Off-Whites (Hehe, yeah)
They all be buggin' when I go up off of the top
Like I got lice, huh
I turn this sh*t Freaky Friday;
I'll make you think you in the wrong life, huh (You in the wrong, wrong life)
You in the wrong life, b*tch
Media painted the wrong light, uh
Hard to hide up in the spotlight
She do anythin' for me, I'm a Klondike, b*tch
I live two lives when I'm online, offline, everythin' on the line
f*ck all the clout, this is not 'bout a dollar sign
Bottom line, that's just the bottom line
Pulled up, you stood, sayin' nothin', just like you forgot your lines (Yeah)
Ayy, b*tch!
[Chorus: Quadeca]
These shoes are from Christian Dior, yeah (Huh)
I'm not a kid anymore, huh (No, I'm not, b*tch)
Look at what I did to the store (What I did)
They don't make this anymore, huh (They do not!)
They don't make sh*t like this anymore (They do not!)
If you gon' try to diss, best be sure, huh (Best be sure, huh)
Cleanin' up rappers, this sh*t a chore (Sweep, sweep)
If you want war then it's war, b*tch (Then it's war, huh)

[Verse 2: Dax & Quadeca]
b*tch (It's Dax!)
n*ggas want beef, put it in a caption (Phew)
n*ggas want tweet, never 'bout rappin' (Haha!)
I was in the trap when they ask me, "What happened?"
I gripped on a TEC, "Sorry, man", now, I'm blastin' (Hahahaha!)
What I said when he panic
Blood on my shirt, yeah, new fashion (Ooh!)
Just bought a whip, and I ran to the mansion (Skrrt!)
And flex on a b*tch, and I pop with this handgun
One shot and you dead, uh (*gunshot*)
HB two pencil ass n*gga
'Cause I always got lead, uh (I got what?)
Two free throws, two shots
One chest, one to your head, uh (Goner)
9-1-1, speed dial, man down
That's what I said ("9-1-1, what's your emergency?")
Who you know was a janitor
Went and got rich, copped a whip that you peel off the lot? (Lot)
Who you know would be a thug?
Who would murder a n*gga, then talk and go move like Barack? ('Rack)
Who you know got a jumper like Curry
And dunk on a n*gga like Shaq on the block? (Block)
Who you know, got a-
Heh, you don't know nobody, uh (Haha, yeah!)
[Chorus: Quadeca]
These shoes are from Christian Dior, huh, yeah (Huh)
I'm not a kid anymore, yeah (No, I'm not, b*tch)
Look at what I did to the store (What I did)
They don't make this anymore, uh (They do not!)
They don't make sh*t like this anymore (They do not!)
If you gon' try to diss, best be sure, uh (Best be sure, uh)
Cleanin' up rappers, this sh*t a chore (Sweep, sweep)
If you want war then it's war b*tch (Then it's war)

[Outro: Quadeca]
Pew!