Hit-Boy
Acetone*
Lyrics From Snippet

[Intro: Freddie Gibbs]
[?]
Fuckin' rap shit
Yeah

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs & Benny The Butcher]
I was, fuckin' them girls, I was gon' get right back
I had a, line on that soft, I was gon' switch it to crack
I stuck to tires like I'm fixin' a flat, swimmin' through racks
Cooked my first zip, lost 6, brought 22 back
Bitch what you trippin' off? Just sold a brick, still down to whip a song
I don't even fuck with the dawg, straight cuttin' fentanyl
She asked me if I'm fuckin' her friend, just know I'm hittin' y'all
Fuck a opp, 250 round drums when I get at y'all
It'd make The Shade Room if these bloggers knew who I'm fuckin'
It'd make the same news if the feds knew what I'm pluggin'
You bought 60 grams off me, I'm prolly doin' a dozen
You need a dope boy, bitch, fuck you goin' through wit' a husband?
Bitch, I been on The Shade Room, got three baby mamas, I'm thuggin'
TMZ been in my house takin' pictures all of a sudden
Heard thе DEA, they tossin' indictments, they wanna cuff 'еm
I'ma leave up out the country wit' fake ID like McLovin

[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Bitch, what you trippin' off?
36 raw, cut that wit' acetone
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, get hard, they hit the crack phone
(Bitch, what you trippin' off?)
36 raw, cut that wit' acetone
Saturday and Sunday, I only talk on the family phone
[Interlude: Freddie Gibbs]
Shit, n***a
Motherfucker's out here talkin' about, you know what I'm sayin'?
I'm tired of, I'm tired of all these n***as talkin' about their songs
Dope shit, the drug shit, n***a
I made it to the motherfuckin' Grammys, n***a
[?]

[Verse 2: Benny The Butcher & Freddie Gibbs]
I treat her like coke, get her wet, then hit her wit' the ice
Reward a single bitch that's faithful to a n***a wit' a wife
Plug hate me like I ran off with bundles and fucked his wife
Migo stabbed me in the eye, hit a dirty knife for the night
You ain't never been in a gang war if you don't know my life
Feds got me up on the gang board, VL for life
Big Rabbit got a package, god damn it, I keep a Sprite
When Obama got elected, I caught a case wit' a wife
Bitch, what you trippin' off?
They wanna know how I feel about Mach workin' with West
Why would I give a fuck? I'm rich already, I wish him the best
Played the game where a brick get you death, [?] hit you less
Judged for the number on your shirt, but it won't be Mitchell & Ness
You like to claim her, the truth is, we shared the bitch, so I guess
I send her back with some cash in her purse and dick on her breath, yeah
I make my girl a star too from buyin' all that yola
Gang hit again, y'all hoes still cryin' in Toyotas
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Bitch, what you trippin' off?
36 raw, cut that wit' acetone
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, get hard, they hit the crack phone
(Bitch, what you trippin' off?)
36 raw, cut that wit' acetone
Saturday and Sunday, I only talk on the family phone
(Bitch, what you trippin' off?)

[Outro: Benny The Butcher]
This for my n***a [?]
First n***a ever gave me a brick, man
I'm [?] forget you
That's the [?] me, ha ha
[?] district attorney
BSF, n***a