The Walking Jaeger Bomb
Lyrics
Bitch I spit frenetic
Speaking in phonetics
Gotta decipher what I speak I'm prophetic
Competition so pathetic
Every time I touch a beat it's copacetic
Cold as ever, arctic at the core
Had your bitch beg for more on display like a galleria
Treasure like a galleon
Italian bitch got a hot box mama mia
Hop in at my leisure
Bitch I'm Caesar at the Rubicon; a natural born leader
Fuck her once, I'm moving on
Biking through hoes like the Tour de France
Armstrong, cooling off
Make this shit my coup de grace
Acting hard but you walk around with like forty guards
I could spit like forty bars
About a little sporty broad that I been spitting on
Dicking raw while I duck the law
Send shots bet I hit them all
Azrael in the name of God
Marksman with the panties, with the bras got me in her jaw
Country bitch yelling "Yee-haw" when she ride it
See saw they wanna keep me down and stay way up
I see them all hiding
Hot as fucking lightning I'm enlightened
I'm ignited, I'm the finest, I'm the whitest knight
My skills done been refined and now I shine the fucking brightest
Atlas done shrugged bitch I'm done being quiet
I'm a man of action bro and none my movies play silent
I'm a titan, I'mma stomp the yard
Larry with the lobster claw
Never hesitate to cut a bitch off
Get the yellow tape if I get pissed off
Cause I'm down to catch a body
Yeah I'm down to fucking kill them all
Stacking bills tall like Shiganshina, I got a big wall but it'll never fall
Getting kissed soft by a stone hard bitch
Give her stone hard dick then I send her off
Like The Weeknd baby tell your friends
Ash Ketchum gotta catch them all
Bagging bitches like a Poke-ball homie on God
Baby call me Jaeger bomb
Bitch I got a sadist's heart
She said this her favorite song
Save no hoes my cape ain't on
Drown in pussy
Satan took me
Down a road let's have a looksie
Counting money like a bookie
Getting head like fucking nugies
Crazy with the sex talk
Arrogant as hell I let the bread talk
Call her Mr Krabs, got a redbone
Childish hoe, hitting high notes
Double entendres by a thin line, tight rope
Have them jaw dropped by the next song
Loav making beats just to flex on
On another level like the jets flown
Made another one like I'm Jetson
Repping 803 the art is home grown
Telling me I'm not the best we both know you dead wrong, woah
Bitch I spit frenetic
Speaking in phonetics
Gotta decipher what I speak I'm prophetic
Competition so pathetic
Every time I touch a beat it's copacetic
Cold as ever, arctic at the core
Had your bitch beg for more on display like a galleria
Treasure like a galleon
Italian bitch got a hot box mama mia
Hop in at my leisure
Bitch I'm Caesar at the Rubicon; a natural born leader
Fuck her once, I'm moving on
Biking through hoes like the Tour de France
Armstrong, cooling off
Make this shit my coup de grace
Acting hard but you walk around with like forty guards
I could spit like forty bars
About a little sporty broad that I been spitting on
Dicking raw while I duck the law
Send shots bet I hit them all
Azrael in the name of God
Marksman with the panties, with the bras got me in her jaw
Country bitch yelling "Yee-haw" when she ride it
See saw they wanna keep me down and stay way up
I see them all hiding
Hot as fucking lightning I'm enlightened
I'm ignited, I'm the finest, I'm the whitest knight
My skills done been refined and now I shine the fucking brightest
Atlas done shrugged bitch I'm done being quiet
I'm a man of action bro and none my movies play silent
I'm a titan, I'mma stomp the yard
Larry with the lobster claw
Never hesitate to cut a bitch off
Get the yellow tape if I get pissed off
Cause I'm down to catch a body
Yeah I'm down to fucking kill them all
Stacking bills tall like Shiganshina, I got a big wall but it'll never fall
Getting kissed soft by a stone hard bitch
Give her stone hard dick then I send her off
Like The Weeknd baby tell your friends
Ash Ketchum gotta catch them all
Bagging bitches like a Poke-ball homie on God
Baby call me Jaeger bomb
Bitch I got a sadist's heart
She said this her favorite song
Save no hoes my cape ain't on
Drown in pussy
Satan took me
Down a road let's have a looksie
Counting money like a bookie
Getting head like fucking nugies
Crazy with the sex talk
Arrogant as hell I let the bread talk
Call her Mr Krabs, got a redbone
Childish hoe, hitting high notes
Double entendres by a thin line, tight rope
Have them jaw dropped by the next song
Loav making beats just to flex on
On another level like the jets flown
Made another one like I'm Jetson
Repping 803 the art is home grown
Telling me I'm not the best we both know you dead wrong, woah
Writer(s): Logan Richardson
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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