Paroles Head Jpegmafia

Head

Digging my way out the hole with these figures
You pressing me, pressing your buttons, I'm triggered
I'm up with the scope, leaving change for the tippers
I can't go to Heaven, they do not have strippers, I hate what I see
Bitch-ass niggas who ain't never did shit ain't relating to me, niggas jealous of me
Dick in ya wife and she selling it, why is you spilling on me? It's irrelevancy
You wifing that ho, but I been in that bitch like a residency, you ain't fucking with me
Treat her like cattle, I'm riding that horse like that bitch was the beat, baby, settle with me
Cease and desist, I get low with the iron, this metal you seek is the weapons I keep
It's staring me back in the face like a mirror, Medusa, I see
It's no effort, the pressure, I'm crashing the truck and I'm booking the stretchers, I'm pushing my peace
Remember this day, it's your last, these bitches, they tryna say, "Hey," but in past
You ain't streaming like Devon, I'll just let you rant, it's sounding like envy but nobody dancing, bud
Arm and a leg for a beat, yo' niggas in jail, but we not in the streets
You niggas depending on whitey for heat, we don't wanna hear if he not on them beats, for real

I can't believe your bitches keeping secrets, I cut off ya hand if you keep it from me
I can't believe it, your bitch on a stage, gotta show the way I'ma do her for free
Back in this bitch, aim with the grip, shame on a bitch, you don't really wanna angle with me
Clap with the 5th, cracking his bitch, you don't really know the half of this shit
You ain't really 'bout nothing, boy, you ain't bring your vest
Put the icing to his donut and fill yo' sweet ass with lead
I'm not even tryna fuck, I can't get hard, I want head
Suck me soft or take the condom off and jump in the bed
Got Sin Meido on my stomach, it's the family crest
Course these niggas steady bumming, they still lying for cred'
When shit be happening to these niggas, they get online, start begging
Like how you rapping and ain't got figures, who would've figured you a peasant?
It's T.D. Jakes, I preach the paper, I just dress like a reverend
I'm on yo' head like I'm Excedrin, we don't know who you be repping, aha