Correction Lyrics How Different States Rap 2 by Confusing Guy

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Lyrics

Your a** goofy as hell on my son, shortie
On my kids, on my soul, shortie
Your a** trippin´ on fonem, boy (Get on that, Rico)
Get on yo a**
Your a** tweakin´ on bro
Your a** goofy, shortie, on bro, shortie
On my son, shortie, on my soul
On fonem, boy

Fonem posted up oustide with brand new blicks, they ready to drill
Ready to ride, I'm one of the guys, shortie, you tweakin, you ain't in the field
I ain't goin' for none, if I get on yo a** you better think fast cause I'm ready to kill
I'm known to just blast, won´t question your a**, on my soul get blown to the pack for real
Big Fat got killed in the gangway
Sweet tooth should've died with a milkshake
Smoked Christian, he diеd on a Sunday
Don't see the bullets that I got in yo damn face
I'm likе ¨N***a, what? Who did what to me?¨
I put goofies on the news plan but load the magazine
Goofy now bro when bro got smoked yo goofy a** ran on one the guys
Can't [?] where it's crackin' at, don't wolf, yo a** gon' die
I could rock sh*t, Imma slide I still done business every time
Ay, you love a thot, you stupid, boy
Smokin on this ruca, boy
Shootin' sh*t like Luka, bruh
Lean in and I'm shootin, bro
These VVS diamonds, I feel like Poseidon, my jewelry is wet cause I'm lit
I could prove all of you want me just show me you love me, spent 56 thousand on drip
I just bought one of my b*t*hes Givenchy
Keep money and mindin' my business
Right now I'm getting these commas
My b*t*h don't say period
Don´t got time for a sentence
Now with these tiddies I'm dryin them up
And all of my n***as on roll
Took a shot but it go in her throat
And bullets is hitting his coat
F**k the bread, we makin' a toast
For [?]
I knew every rapper would DM my ex
They knew every bullet go straight through his mans
I shot him he thought there would be a chance
And Gucci and Louis and Prada Givenchy and coochie and money and guns, oh yeah
She suckin' my d**k when she with me, she suckin' my d**k when she with me
She suckin' my d**k 'til it's sticky

Designer Glock came from Europe, survive a shot then you lucky
Your cuh got killed in Memphis, they find his head in Kentucky
They think I'm havin' sex, I be quick to bust if you touch me
Slidin sh*t for the mercy, catchin bodies ain't nothin
Yo b*t*h just sucked my d**k, 'fore she was just callin me ugly
Family ain't even love me, now everybody my cousin
Uncle Rodger shot a deer, I'm in Memphis drinking beer
I don't be believing n***as, they be lyin' in they lyrics
Choppa hit him in his leg, the bullet travel to his arm
Before I buy a n***a lean let's shake it up like Bella Thorne
Totin' pistols at 11, we was [?] poster boys
She like my new veneers, that's how teegers made a storm
This sh*t could get deadly, you know I'm a felon
I'm keepin my weapon, get struck if you catch me
We wet em like water, bustin' his belly
Wanna be like ¨somethin new?¨ now he ready spaghetti

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