Sybyr
Minute Man, Pt. 2
[Chorus: Names Not Andy]
I woke up with the motherfuckin' blade in my hand (Ayy, ayy)
Blood on my boots (Boots), blood on my hands (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
I don't fuck with you fuckers, you is not my friends (Ayy)
And I pray to the God (God), with this blood on my hands (With this blood on my hands, bitch)

[Verse 1: Names Not Andy]
Hittin' this blunt while I'm smokin' my choppa
My vodka is kicking, leave you in the dirt (Rraa)
Forty round monster is comin' to haunt ya
I'm pullin' up at ya, won't put in the work (Skrrt, skrrt)
Biotch, you cappin', you talk and it happens
I'm pullin' up strapped and I'm puttin' in work
Never talk down to me, bitch, you were clownin' me
Stomp on your head, 'cause bitch, are we tight? (Ayy)
Fuck around, bitch, I pull up and I'm stabbin' (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
I whip out the blade, never say I be cappin' (Yeah, bitch)
Fucking indignity, you ever had it?
Your system is gone and it's turned into ashes
Me and lil' savage, we bringin' the havoc
You ain't tryna scrap, and you throwin' no smoke
Callin' up magic, whenever he bang
He gon' target his brains th-through the scope
I do not finesse no bitches, ayy
I fuck her once then I'm dippin', ayy
You will never catch me slippin', ayy
Cuts on my wrist, now they drippin'
Crushin' up pills with my shawty, uh
Dickin' her down 'cause she horny, uh
I got my camera recordin', ayy
Fuck it, this shit gettin' boring, ayy
[Chorus: Names Not Andy]
I woke up with the motherfuckin' blade in my hand (Ayy, ayy)
Blood on my boots (Boots), blood on my hands (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
I don't fuck with you fuckers, you is not my friends (Ayy)
And I pray to the God (God), with this blood on my hands (What is good?)

[Verse 2: Sybyr]
Shit like this doesn't make me feel like wakin' up
By the end of the day, I'll end up tearin' my knuckles up
Stifling, like, what the fuck?
Drivin' on 'em with a monster truck
Independent, all some bitter environment
Fuck around and have 'em sing like the choir man
Sippin' on murky water, no tap
Writed like I'm the author, not a chap'
Three phones on me, outta service
Make a livestream act out of service
I am through servin' these serpents
Mowin' 'em down, they don't serve any purpose
I am through servin' these serpents
Mowin' 'em down, they don't serve any purpose
Drinking heavy bourbon
APC, got more jeans, waking up in lucid dreams
And they wanna join the, join the fleets
I'm operating like machine
Tunnel vision, laser beam
Almost never on no bean
Sit back down and watch the scenes
Tryna formulate a theme
It's disorganized as shit
Staph infection on the wrist
Ain't on frozen, very heated
Would y'all like me to repeat it?
Stay still biting, now they teethin'
Misery for all them leeches
Got some n***as hating, so they hackin' shit
[Chorus: Names Not Andy]
I woke up with the motherfuckin' blade in my hand (Ayy, ayy)
Blood on my boots (Boots), blood on my hands (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
I don't fuck with you fuckers, you is not my friends (Ayy)
And I pray to the God (God), with this blood on my hands

[Outro: Names Not Andy]
What the fuck is this place?
Welcome Andy, I've been watching you
I see great, great potential
Your death, it was meant to be
What the fuck you mean?!
You've been touched by the wicked, you've been chosen, by the wicked
You can either choose to stay eternally in Hell, or, I can cast your soul back into Earth
Bring me back to Earth