The Classifieds - Dirty Laundry Lyrics

Air you out
You gon make me have to air you out
Show you what these lyrics really talking bout
Put you in the clouds if you chasing clout
Know my partner from the Dirty South
And you know we with the clique like a mouse
Brasco coming outta Tennessee
Doozy looking like an Aussie boy to me
Fuck with us, you paying penalties
And you'll have to pay a shredding fee
I stay praying for my enemies
Injuries like Ritchie with a T
With a T
With a T
With a

I been making racks
I can't rank these rappers cause they stank
Dirty laundry
On the daily I go to the bank
What my mom think
What my mom think
What she say
Son gon be a rapper, he gon pop
And he gon fly away

Clean cut, no crease
I been flicking cigarette butts at police
You ain't got delivery like the Yung D
Your bitch get to quivering when she fuck me
Slip on something silky so I can get cream
I ain't got the time to beef on a 16
We the classifieds, you hide while we seek
Holding down the 'Sippi way up to the NYC

Suck my dick
I don't play with em
Glocks like some relatives cuz I stay with em
Pac with some Pop Smoke is my mindset
And I put yo bitch to sleep, readers digest
And I'm feeling cybernetic on this high tech
I'm in 2077, charging by sec
She got mileage on her kitty but it's my pet
If she talking to me crazy, imma divest
Heavy white smoke sitting up in my chest
My chest
My chest
I still haven't died yet
I've been feeling
Feeling
Feeling
Feel robotic on em
I switch styles like I had to switch the topic on em

Damn I need me a thick bitch
After I can get rich quick
Skatin' on em like a kickflip
Haitian blood in my big dick
Yes I'm talking like a big wig
Cuz you know that I've been shit
Add an article in front of that
Disrespect, we takin none of that
Denver looking like a running back
Toss it to him when I gun the track
Flobots on you robots
No handlebars, where the Gundam at
Know it all like an almanac
Excuse me sir, you want your daughter back
Her mother tryna get freaky too
It's no wonder who taught her that
724, all in caps
S on my chest like a starter cap
Killing verses, who started that?
First degree when I slaughter that
You stand for something, I martyr that
Gory story, bring the horror back
Fuck shit, I want no part in that
Tuff shit I want all of that

Gold plaques I need more of those
Yung D pull all the hoes
Get an old bitch out her clothes
That's ya momma I'm sorry bro
Would tell ya she sucked my soul
But I was already soulless tho
Bad business that's all I know
Bad bitches at all my shows
And obviously I'm finna dive in it
Need the coochie I thrive in it
If life's a movie, I'lldie in it
Ratatouille my hands with it
Rat-a-tat to yo bucket hat
With this 40 Mac when I rack it back
Whip Cadillac, not hatchback
I'm hunchback cause my nut sack
In other words it's so heavy
I'm off the perc and I'm fucking ready
I'm Triple 6 and you Tom Petty
No extra clip but my aim steady
I'll send some shots down the corridor
724 with the horrorcore
He'll slam yo head inside a car door
We'll do all that plus a lot more