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Young Jersey, Syno, & Swats

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What do they know
What do they know, what do they know
Where are they coming from, where did they go
Where is the fire, where is the snow
What do they want, f*ck if I know
What do I want, what do I want
Do I want money, do I want gold
Do I want models, do I want hoes
Do I want pussy do I want throat
That's why they don't like like me
That's why they don't write like me
Swats know how I like beats
Give me a black eye, please
I'm on that Chris Brown shit
'Bout to Kung Fu this bitch
Get her an eye patch, please
Talk about black eyed peas
I wanna run it, run it like the bolt
You gonna catch it, catch it like a ball
I'm not Picasso but shit, I can draw
Blood on my enemies, paint on the walls
Blood on the carpet and blood on the shoes
Blood on the denims and blood on the jewels
Blood in the forest right after the summer
Autumn is coming and they're gonna fall
I be on fire and I'm undeniable
I got the heat like I'm Ozai the fire lord
Look like I'm the avatar I'm in my element
Schooling these bitches that shit elementary
Talking about being and that's for a century
I got so many walls no one can get to me
I got telepathy I know this shit really meant to me
I got no empathy, Ellen DeGeneres, ah
Ya like that
Okay, ya like that
I said, what
Ya like that
Uh-huh
Ya like that
What do they know, what do they know
Where are they coming from, where did they go
Where is the fire, where is the snow
What do they want, f*ck if I know
What do I want, what do I want
Do I want money, do I want gold
Do I want models, do I want hoes
Do I want pussy, do I want throat
I'm not a regular guy, I want irregular things
Don't want the girl of my dreams, I want the girl of my nightmares
I'm not a regular guy, I want irregular friends
Tired of regular friends, I gotta cut off the ends
Off with the noose that I tied, died and came back to life
Wait, did I say that right, right
I'm on that Five Guys, burgers and fries, beef on site right
I'm a survive nine lives nobody leaving alive right
I'm a arrive, rockstar vibe soon as I get on the mic
Silence, I'm talking
Please don't be pushing my buttons
I don't have the keys, but I'll throw the whole alphabet at you
If you wanna Scrabble you got it
I'll Scrabble you not this shit is too easy it's over
Get it, easy and over
Over easy I'm a practical yoker
Hasta la vista this boy is a goner
You started the gutter I've been going off and I'm still in abundance
The point, you're returning to chasing the bag
When the bag in the back of my Honda, I holler at miss pretty face
Once you come over here sit on my face it's like In-N-Out Burger the way that she tastes
I feel like Tay-K the way that I carry my AK no wonder they call it the race
You like that
Uh huh

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