KrispyLife Kidd
Bottle Girl Scam

[Intro]
(It's a Wayne beat)
N***a, KrispyLife, bitch
Alright, all that dick suckin’, pick yo' chin up
Ayy

[Verse]
I really got it off the muscle, I don't do the scams
You got thirty plus years old and start doing grams
My n***a, where you really from? N***a, who is your mans?
All this clout chasin’, I'm startin' to think you a fan
N***as sleepin' with they ass out tryna get clout
N***a said my name, now I gotta reroute
I'm outside yo' crib, in the backyard like a treehouse
All my jeans a thou-wow, got cuts with the knees out
I been that boy, been that dude, I'on need clout
Imagine dissin' a n***a that’s in yo’ dream house
You got all bullshit in yo' ’Woods, put that leaf out
We finna blitz a n***a crib, we run a five-out
K-R-I-S-P, bitch, don't say my name
Yo' shit fake, but over here I got a fifty in chains
Dropped a Durango then a wide-body, I'm just switchin’ lanes
.40 like a workout partner, this bitch'll fix yo' frame
Stop tryna get clout and go and fix yo' chain
That bitch made outta cereal boxes with a drip of rain
I shouldn't be doin' this, I ain't got shit to gain
I should pop you then make another insurance claim
Just to get around rappers, boy, you'll hop and twirl
You push bitches out the way, even bottle girls
It ain't that serious, my n***a, just wait yo' turn
You finna die over two hunnid, I know you hate Big Worm
Yo' daddy died, left you a crib, but you ain't pay the taxes
Now you wanna fall asleep with yo' pants below yo' asses
You won't cut her before you always stopped at Gratiot
You won't go inside no club, you is not no savage
You a bitch, boy, Gramz ain't finna hold yo' hand
You always got on a n***a clothing brand
You the type to say that, "I shot but my pole did jam"
Should've been born on Thanksgiving, you a whole ham
N***as wish they was me, they wish they had my life
I been beatin' shit up, I been earnt my stripes
You better chill the fuck out, I know you want yo' life