Ayy bruh you tryna let me get a sip of that King Cobra

[Verse 1: Dylan Ross]
Forever the sickest infected dick in my britches
I'm tying bitches to bridges and burn em' down so sleep with the fishes
I'm vicious when my baby sauce dribbles on your bitches nipples before I fucked her silly with a rusty chisel
I'm off the hizzle banging with the born of barren womym and making you hang yourself off the fan in your parents room
I know you love the sound cantankerous underground pound for pound wrapped in a blanket made of Alaskan flounder

[Verse 2: Dylan Ross]
I'm pacing back and forth waiting for you at the door
Waiting for you to come out so I can pull a gun out
If somе bitches run out
I'ma have some fun now
If you spеak to me I will pleasantly pull your tongue out
I pull my gun out yeah I'm down to fire shots in broad day
Main street kill a bitch, kill a cop
I cop a sack of killer bud and fill the bowl and rip it off and also got some angel dust
I trust it make me go ballistic

[Verse 3: Dylan Ross]
Bitches in Miami tend to cower at the sight of me
Probably cause their boyfriends mad and fantasizing fighting me
You can not fight righteously if only with your fists
I speak with doctrine as if Jesus did not exist
He's dead bloodshed in the back of the tour van
I hit you with the force as if I had four hands
Gore kill never silent and discreet
I hammer smash and lacerate your face in the fucking street