FTA Freestyle
Aitch
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Never lost a fight but lost my head a couple times I should've let 'em f*ck me up to knock some sense into my mind All the women that I've fucked with no rubber on the bus If they're ever up the duffs, some are definitely mine Wait, I'm just kiddin', I just rate it, I'm just spittin' In your girls mouth, got the puss hissin', I love kittens I was in town with my fun stick on a f*ck mission Then I woke up in my mum's crib with my cum drippin' I'm paranoid, so get prepared to grab me Looked in the mirror then I punched the cunt for starin' at me I don't bust, I just leave with my nut 'Cause I scream when I f*ck And now the grippers they're all scared to trap me Today I woke up, I ain't mentally there Like, I might go and shave the chest off my hair I know some thoughts that we got ain't meant to be shared But I'm tired of bein' quiet and pretendin' I care so Most rappers are cunts 'bout as bad as their mums Talkin', burnin' a pack, boy, I'm packin' your lunch Call me daddy, my son, play the match and you won Give you a pat on the back, little slap on the bum All these gyal on the net, put your pants on a sec Sat in a car park, ass out, hands on the deck Tryna hang from one rich man to the next Well, if you don't have bread, bitch, have some respect Man are pissed about the Brits speech They know shit's peak, bitch, please, listen when the king speak Brothers bummy like some shit cheeks Sendin' bitch tweets, actin' like some pussy that I didn't beat Imagine we could just say what we thought I'll say it anyway, f*ck it, play it in court Since I broke the fuckin' bank, I ain't breakin' the law But if the police take my drugs, then I'm breakin' his jaw You got trees in the crop, let me see what you got Leave your cheddar lookin' like Swiss cheese when it's robbed F*ck your bro, f*ck your sis, f*ck your team, f*ck your squad And if I catch a man streamin' the opps I hope your drop your phone on your head when you're alone and in bed I hope you die then wake up with a hole in your chest Then head back to that hole where you rose from the dead Then I'll bury you alive, while you're holdin' your breath, bitch Most rappers are cunts 'bout as bad as their mums Talkin', burnin' a pack, boy, I'm packin' your lunch Call me daddy, my son, play the match and you won Give you a pat on the back, little slap on the bum All these gyal on the net, put your pants on a sec Sat in a car park, ass out, hands on the deck Tryna hang from one rich man to the next Well, if you don't have bread, bitch, have some respect If you don't have bread, bitch, have some respect
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Written by: Harrison Armstrong, Westen Weiss
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"FTA Freestyle Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/13365881/Aitch/FTA+Freestyle>.
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