Food Fight

[Produced by Yung Ladd & Heat Academy] [Prehook] Bitch nigga getting greedy with the K You a pussy nigga, you won’t bust a grape All them carrots on your plate, get this banana in your face Time to eat and all my niggas in the grave [Hook] Screaming fuck this shit let’s have a food fight Fuck this shit let’s have a food fight My niggas starving, we’s about to have a food fight Fuck this shit, let’s have a food fight Fuck this shit let’s have a food fight My niggas hungry, we’s about to have a food fight My niggas starving, we’s about to have a food fight Fuck this shit let’s have a food fight [Verse 1 – Starlito] I been dreaming this shit since free lunch Beating on the table, now we meeting up with labels I sleep when I turn 80, think bout keeping up, you’re crazy You want beef? It’s all gravy I just grab them chopsticks, grip em tight Show you what I’m living like Got to smoke that rapper weed just to have an appetite That’s alright, insomniac, side effect counting stacks I might, sell a sugar cookie, 12 50 And that’s all white Like a bake sale, I fuck with you, I take 12 Last nigga tried to take something, ate shells I thank MAC 11, tomato tomato, whatever you call it Broad day, potato on the nozzle [Prehook + Hook] [Verse 2 – Don Trip] Whole lot of money, whole lot of dope I’m sharp as a bayonet coming right at your throat You see when rap wasn’t paying yeah I was breaking up Os Got so much dirt on my hands it’s made its way to my soul Now this fast money got a nigga hooked like a fishing pole Slanging mid green got my pockets full of dinner rolls Potato on the barrel, time to eat, bring your beef Hundred rounds, everybody get a piece, take your seat Hunt a rabbit for its foot, slay a horse for its shoe Get you killed for a four leaf clover, lucky you Bitch I’m shooting like Nate, short nigga, short fuse Got my knife, I’m just coming for my slice, fork you [Prehook + Hook x3] [Verse 3 – Starlito] They just want the Jordans, I just want that Jordan money And I ain’t got no hoop dreams, fuck that shit, record this for me Start that water boiling, mater fact drop this half a quarter for me Or drop this bale of loud off and come back with a recording budget Naw, get a job, go to school Probably be the first one to tell you that’s cool Probably get murked, take a step in my shoes First time you sleep you slip, and slippers count, can’t snooze Can’t count no sheep but told my peeps you can count on me Young nigga roll up, got an ounce on me Young niggas roll up, no doubt they gon’ squeeze Run with some OGs sell a whole bunch of Ps Got some loud too strong for Febreeze Light up and just zone to these beats Naked pictures in my phone from some freaks I ain’t been home in some weeks Last seen counting money with your ho in the Jeep It ain’t your flow, it’s your beats I been doing shows like everywhere And you niggas ain’t nothing in the streets Ain’t fucking with me, or Trip [Verse 4 – Don Trip] Not even half way, living every day like it’s my last day Y’all lil niggas talking bout the money, I got more than that in my ash tray And I don’t even smoke, that’s piff blowing I’m stepping on niggas, fuck tiptoeing I live this shit, I ain’t just recording Bitch I got more heart than Brendan Owen Fourty four, bulldog Shiny tour, we call it [?] I’m in your living room on your lazy boy Fucking your girl so good she should pay me for it Get more neck than vocal cords At any given moment we can go to war And why is it that opportunity never knocks on the open doro I got this covered like a pawn show Gorilla clique head honcho And real shit, between me and my pen I got more hits than a combo Shooters with me what you don’t know Double drums like a bongo East side, super heavy weight And I’m still flyer than Dumbo Bitch