Bass Santana
Curse (RE-UPLOADED LYRICS)
[Intro: X**TENTACION]
Hey, check my resumé
T-t-to Ba** be the glory
My d**k go hard, eight (Oy, oy)
True facts, ayy, ayy (Cla** of 2017, f**k n***as)

[Verse 1: X**TENTACION]
Check my clock, I can't stop (Ayy)
F**k around, make my .40 pop (Ayy)
No Popcaans, I pop pistols (Yeah!)
Revenge my body, clothing no issue (Ah!)
B*t*h you look sick, you need a tissue
You drop a body, I just might bless you (Ayy!)
I'm metro-sexual, no high cholesterol (Yeah!)
Where Jenny Craig? B*t*h, let's get sexual (Yeah, yeah!)

[Verse 2: Ba** Santana, X**TENTACION]
Why the f**k I'd ever lie?
Pu**y n***a bet that pistol part of your disguise (Yeah!)
I could see it in your eyes
Runnin' from the reaper, f**k I'm not afraid to die
B*t*hes creepin' on my line
Got my main upset, these hoes I f**ked and left behind
Need at least two at a time
Moved to foreign, took it over, lost my f**kin' mind
Instigatin's why I don't trust these b*t*hes
Two-faced and lame a** n***a
Gangbang for fame fake hitta
I ain't never seen squad wit' ya
I don't need a savior, f**k the faith
Cop myself an ounce and work the weight
Seen the Babylon around the way
Who the f**k they catchin'? Not today
[Chorus: Ba** Santana, X**TENTACION]
Ridin' 'round with sinners (Yeah!)
Flyin' on a Nimbus (Yeah!)
Spot a n***a slippin'
Hold on, roll down the window, yo (Ah!)
Low-key schemin' (Yeah!)
Leave his momma screamin', yo (Yeah!)
Curse these demons
Lord, curse these demons (Ah!)

[Verse 3: Coolie Cut]
Chase 'em with the f**kin' TEC (Ayy)
Hit 'em where it hurt, n***a make it work (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
I'ma make it squirt, n***a I do dirt
N***a I'ma merc, put 'em in the earth
Pay me for the verse, put 'em in a hearse
Gotta finish first, I just did my first (Yeah)
Protect me from my curse (From my curse, from my curse)
Ayy, yeah, b*t*h!

[Verse 4: Kin$oul]
B*t*h, I put in work, spittin' with a curse
Wouldn't be the first, how much is you worth?
Sell you tour merch, I just wanna f**k
I don't wanna flirt, why your feelings hurt?
Cha cha slide, all in that pu**y
How you doin' love? Let's go make a movie
Body lookin' good, when you dress in Gucci
Love the chicken breast, bitin' on yo' booty
[Chorus: Ba** Santana]
Ridin' 'round with sinners, mmm
Flyin' on a Nimbus
Spot a n***a slippin'
Hold on, roll down the window, yeah
Low-key schemin', mmm
Leave his momma screamin', yeah
Curse these demons
Lord, curse these demons