leave a spell on your clique
pull up on me it get tragic
i lay 'em down in the past nigga
zip a nigga up in plastic
nah nigga i ain't average
put a spell on that bitch in my verse
chop a bitch off where the hoes go
bitch i made it rose gold
all my peoples pasadena like the rose bowl
more gas than my teachers off a whole flow
from the bleachers to the end zone
wonder where her clothes go?
do it behind closed doors
new sweater made by junkie made by kezno in my benzo
get her on her ass like a movie that's suspenseful
i'm soldiered down like ten-four
fuck her in that prison with the damus and keyways
or up in the dub from the arm to the peach cake
i ain't never been a cheapskate
pull up on me it get tragic
i lay 'em down in the past nigga
zip a nigga up in plastic
nah nigga i ain't average