Tutorial

Hey (Phew)

Beat the game while you stuck on the tutorial (Huh)

Aye, every day, I'm tryna wake up and be more, my unky servin' orioles

They don't want war, we'll turn 'em to memorials (Brrt)

Ram a ho soon as I touch down, Torry Holt

Fuck a twenty-one blowout, we up like 40-0

Random hoes dick suckin', point 'em to the glory hole

Every time these bitches feel my presence, they in horny mode

Orgy mode, made in style like I'm Fordio

In the bed with two yellow bones, that's an Oreo

Pop so dirty, had to take it to the dry cleaners

Fightin' off Z's, what I poured up, it fight fevers

Couldn't play the coupe, seven hoes in my five-seater

One eye open, trust none, I'm a light sleeper

I like the way she suck it, I don't think we fuckin'

Should I lay up, dunk it? This an easy bucket (Kobe)

What I upped on the 'Gram'd make Stevie wonder

B30s, three Perc 10s match the CV runners

We ain't get the memo, mixin' purple with the red in the green room, ah, fuck it, where the yellow at?

Two quick shots out the Drakey to his whip, it sound like, "Bing, boom," next time, put a helmet on instead a hat

I can serve water to a fish, air to a human

If you ain't gang, I could care less what you doin'

Him and him twins 'cause they both sharin' my influence

Got your bitch grabbin' ankles, why her hair gettin' ruined (Whoa)

In the booth sippin' Qua', pour it out like my soul

Would've thought it pushed him first, Brodie beatin' up the road

Bitches throwin' pussy at me, I ain't thinkin' 'bout a ho

Hall-of-fame sipper, accoladin', dreamin' 'bout some pros

Opps scary, see us out, they like, "Uh-oh"

Slidin' in the Scooby van, they like, "Ruh-roh"

Doctor, double back, fuck an uno, I need one more

Emptied out the Stily, got me noddin' like a custo

She can't get a thing but ding-a-ling

Cuddy head tapped 'em on the porch, ain't even see the Ring

Now he on the run, four attachments on the gun

Spillin' drank in deadstock, it's red stains on the 1's

Fuck the plain promethazine, gon' spit it out just like Tajiri

Sneaks, socks, shirt, jeans, all Mike Amiri

Drip, drop

Is you gon' ball or sit and chat?

Young Tron done asked to see that ball, and I'd give it back (Fuck 'em)

You gotta trust the process (Phew)

I treat a dime bitch like an object (Swear)

Raw six to the face, I ain't nod yet

Broke-ass bitch ain't look good since that prom dress

Pull up to your job and have Akhi make a bomb threat

Tryna catch the i8, I'ma make the cops wreck

She made a mess off that neck, had to swap texts

Long live $cams, SBDSM (Michigan Meech)

Beat the game while you stuck on the tutorial

Aye, every day, I'm tryna wake up and be more, my unky servin' orioles

They don't want war, we'll turn 'em to memorials