Deadlyeometry - 50 BPM Freestyle
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{intro:deadlyeometry}
Ay turn my headphones up a lil bit
We good?
Okay
Uh
{verse 1:deadlyeometry}
50 beats per minute
In a sprinter van,i could send 50 shots per minute
She a keeper
I know that she cum when i’m in it
I treat that bitch like a blunt
I twist her around and then i lick it
Why they hating on my place and position?
You ain’t in this lane
Can’t call yourself the big daddy
You can’t even sell the kane
The money old as shit
If each dollar was a person then they would walk with canes
I’m bout to tweak again
I am not at all sane
I’m jacked up on a whole lot of shit
Inserted into my bloodstream
Hit еm wit the chopper
And they twitching morе than a livestream
I be creeping on the low
But i hit em wit the high beam
She ain’t need a spoon
To lick this fucking ice cream
Come on
Up and down
And come back around
I’mma stroke that cat
While you turn yo back around
I’mma pounce on yo ass
Like some simba and nala shit
I’m testing the currents with my new release
On some tame impala shit
Could hear yo broke ass talking
From a mile away
I’mma slick rick the bitch
And take his fucking eye away
Not like he needed to see
I’mma george floyd his ass
And make sure he don’t breathe
Too far?
Not far enough
Where haven’t i driven this yet?
What haven’t i done yet?
She acting like we boutta hit the climax
But i ain’t make her cum yet
I put it in her disk slot
Known to get shit lit like travis scott
But i won’t kill 10 people unlike travis scott
Why you name your son wolf?
Are you finna toss him to the pack?
He gon be raised like that and sent right back
He won’t be the same after that
He gon think he the alpha of his group
But he ain’t in no fucking group
This what delusion do to you
{verse 2:deadlyeometry}
Yeah i’m aware that one day ai will learn how to drive
It’s inevitable so i just embrace it
I don’t wear black on sunday
Does that make me racist?
I’m getting more bread than you
You probably hate it
Go talk to my stack
It’ll probably tell you shit bout yo ugly ass
Like how when you were born
You should have reconsidered
You dropped a whole tape of mid
No hitters,only filler
Know that i’m the man round here
Like i listen to the killers
And they gon tell me bout some new bryson tiller
Why should we care?
The game done forgot bout that
Not like he gon make it back big
Shit’ll probably sell a cheap k at least
I use my pistol like a condiment
I line it up and squeeze
Now what you know bout me?
What you know bout me?
Heard i got em g’s
Heard i wear skinny ass jeans
I don’t make a single song that is clean
I like to fucking swear
That’s all
Fuck em all
If they decide to snitch instead of tryna ball
Blud thought he finna make a pointer like jordan
But at best he chris paul
He think he in the mix
But he get beat wit the batter
Off the meds got me going crazy
Finna go mad hatter
I don’t get the hype
But i peep all the chatter
Why you whining like a bitch online?
Your opinion doesn’t matter
Go outside and appreciate life
Or better yet,get a life
Do the shit you always wanted to do before you died
Do the shit that makes you proud
Your music ain’t good if you play it loud
Give me one good reason why i shouldn’t smack you right now
It’s like you serving lambs to the slaughter
Like holy cow
I want the cattle
Ride it slow while i strap on the saddle
Grown ass man,i can fight my own battles
He tried to get out the way,it was still a tackle
The draco like a baby toy,it finna rattle
Put em to rest wit it,put em to bed
Pencil point grip,got a whole lotta lead
I’ll spin twice to make sure all them bitches dead
Reason i hit up the graveyard?
I count up the dead
Dead
{outro:deadlyeometry}
I don’t need a reason to go in
Cause i just do it
Without anyone telling me to
Cause i’m a master of my own word
Ay don’t let anyone tell you what to do in this world
Do you
Do what makes you happy
{intro:deadlyeometry}
Ay turn my headphones up a lil bit
We good?
Okay
Uh
{verse 1:deadlyeometry}
50 beats per minute
In a sprinter van,i could send 50 shots per minute
She a keeper
I know that she cum when i’m in it
I treat that bitch like a blunt
I twist her around and then i lick it
Why they hating on my place and position?
You ain’t in this lane
Can’t call yourself the big daddy
You can’t even sell the kane
The money old as shit
If each dollar was a person then they would walk with canes
I’m bout to tweak again
I am not at all sane
I’m jacked up on a whole lot of shit
Inserted into my bloodstream
Hit еm wit the chopper
And they twitching morе than a livestream
I be creeping on the low
But i hit em wit the high beam
She ain’t need a spoon
To lick this fucking ice cream
Come on
Up and down
And come back around
I’mma stroke that cat
While you turn yo back around
I’mma pounce on yo ass
Like some simba and nala shit
I’m testing the currents with my new release
On some tame impala shit
Could hear yo broke ass talking
From a mile away
I’mma slick rick the bitch
And take his fucking eye away
Not like he needed to see
I’mma george floyd his ass
And make sure he don’t breathe
Too far?
Not far enough
Where haven’t i driven this yet?
What haven’t i done yet?
She acting like we boutta hit the climax
But i ain’t make her cum yet
I put it in her disk slot
Known to get shit lit like travis scott
But i won’t kill 10 people unlike travis scott
Why you name your son wolf?
Are you finna toss him to the pack?
He gon be raised like that and sent right back
He won’t be the same after that
He gon think he the alpha of his group
But he ain’t in no fucking group
This what delusion do to you
{verse 2:deadlyeometry}
Yeah i’m aware that one day ai will learn how to drive
It’s inevitable so i just embrace it
I don’t wear black on sunday
Does that make me racist?
I’m getting more bread than you
You probably hate it
Go talk to my stack
It’ll probably tell you shit bout yo ugly ass
Like how when you were born
You should have reconsidered
You dropped a whole tape of mid
No hitters,only filler
Know that i’m the man round here
Like i listen to the killers
And they gon tell me bout some new bryson tiller
Why should we care?
The game done forgot bout that
Not like he gon make it back big
Shit’ll probably sell a cheap k at least
I use my pistol like a condiment
I line it up and squeeze
Now what you know bout me?
What you know bout me?
Heard i got em g’s
Heard i wear skinny ass jeans
I don’t make a single song that is clean
I like to fucking swear
That’s all
Fuck em all
If they decide to snitch instead of tryna ball
Blud thought he finna make a pointer like jordan
But at best he chris paul
He think he in the mix
But he get beat wit the batter
Off the meds got me going crazy
Finna go mad hatter
I don’t get the hype
But i peep all the chatter
Why you whining like a bitch online?
Your opinion doesn’t matter
Go outside and appreciate life
Or better yet,get a life
Do the shit you always wanted to do before you died
Do the shit that makes you proud
Your music ain’t good if you play it loud
Give me one good reason why i shouldn’t smack you right now
It’s like you serving lambs to the slaughter
Like holy cow
I want the cattle
Ride it slow while i strap on the saddle
Grown ass man,i can fight my own battles
He tried to get out the way,it was still a tackle
The draco like a baby toy,it finna rattle
Put em to rest wit it,put em to bed
Pencil point grip,got a whole lotta lead
I’ll spin twice to make sure all them bitches dead
Reason i hit up the graveyard?
I count up the dead
Dead
{outro:deadlyeometry}
I don’t need a reason to go in
Cause i just do it
Without anyone telling me to
Cause i’m a master of my own word
Ay don’t let anyone tell you what to do in this world
Do you
Do what makes you happy
