Frazees Suicide

Call this track ya suicide, I ain't committing a murder You got bodies on bodies, bet you told them that you a virgin Or maybe you said experience, left out all the details And homosexual experiments, bi from belly up Bet you a bottom from the waist down, leap right to the leash I had you dog, don't wanna play now, walk him to the streets Drop the treats, let him play around, actin' how you do It be the morgue or the dog pound, fuck your friends Girls you even cheatin' on your dogs now Frazee, you got a baby, how you cheatin' on the mom Wow, crazy, you got girls that go up with you to the hotel Can't afford the life, surprised that you can even keep a cell phone To call the hoes, so you can go and swing your hose around, yeah I'ma make him suicidal, bro, actin' off, I think he need him some midol Need you to leave, world seem to be crammed full that time of the month, you losin' blood by the handful Slapped by the truth of my words and both my hands, hoe You a slut, you a fake, you a nothin', no debate Know your dad killed your dog, he shoulda shot you in the face Broke the trauma bond of time ,and now you sittin' where you stay Gained some weight, so now you can't run away, for fuck's sake Coulda hopped on a track, now you got too dedicated You want smoke, I'll lace ya blunt and get you too medicated With this machete, I'll get you separated No preparation, just pure spite and anger aiming at Caleb Like, rappin start writing, make a diss on my name Ain't got nothin' to say, my dick little as it came Short and fat, and you can puff it like a vape For fuck's sake, I diss myself every day Ego death is what you need, go and take by the eighth Of the P-subs then suck on these nuts Please, bruh, go OD, you need somethin' worse Go see God, but no church, you need a hearse Or rebirth, before you kill yourself, find Jesus first Yeah, I'ma make him suicidal Bro, actin' off, I think he need him some midol Need you to leave, world seem to be crammed full That time of the month, you losin blood by the handful Slapped by the truth of my words and both my hands, hoe You fuckin' little ass idiot, this a war zone I ain't playin' with you, little kid, you a little bitch Bringing up the past, lil' mad that you fake just a little bit Know it's out the ass, but life about the little shit I'm about to bust a cap, so call me dad, I'ma finish it Feelin' like a demon, take your life and I ain't finna miss Know I'm finna twist this shit, give me a nip, can't diss about this You bitch, I'm real with it, at least I can grow hair on my chin Yeah, you finna be bald when you hit thirty-six With no job or custody of your kids No, girl, she gon' leave when she read on this list Or see screenshots, why you gotta fuck a bitch Least three of them just to feel good about how you bein You a shitty person, I'm glad that I see it Cookin up a plan, she shoulda took a B, yeah I'ma make him suicidal, bro, actin' off, I think he need him some midol need you to leave, world seem to be crammed full That time of the month, you losin' blood by the handfuls, bitch