Fire Ant

[Verse 1: Perrion] So what else I got to do to get through to you fools? I guess you can only use my height, which is miniscule To try to ridicule, but I make you look pitiful Surely getting rid of you, you ain't shit but a unit, nigga you been a tube Been to school already, so fuck it, I don't need it again Only thing a nigga might need is a paper and pen If my phone dies, fuck your stupid corporation Four hundred dollar suits, and bow ties Can't wait 'til these hoes crying While they chasing after the bus taking off driving And all you neutral-ass rappers can eat a dick While I'm eating fish sticks, speeding in my stick shift Whatever, rhymes so simple, my rhymes so clever That's why I'm so much better And fuck y'all hoes I ain't trying to settle I'm getting unattached from these birds like feathers Never try to wife them up, and you're corny as shit And played out, I might as well white Nik' you up Sorry homie you ain't popping no more It's over, now I'm eating fool, ya popcorn I'm busting off like I just stopped watching porn Trying to peel off in that new drop top Porsche I'm in my own lane, homie you driving off course I 'ma keep rapping 'til my voice hoarse, nigga [Verse 2: Perrion] Well, I finally found some more inspiration After the first album dropped I've been gaining a lot of anticipation Niggas been hating, waiting for a nigga to fall But since they hear what I'm capable of flight gals They all fake and stuff, I call them a bunch of kids And they hoes want to ménage, but I don't want to fuck with them And they expect me to be cuffing them because they man's a fucking loser Oh well, good luck with him These hoes are like scissors to papers that be cutting in I'm trying to keep my money fat like its got a double-chin So so-long to all the exes and hoes No time for games, X's can't get next to my O's Cause I'm trying to stack hella g's You think you better? Fella please It's common for me to be with the bread like yellow cheese And fuck you haters that never believed Yeah I'm sure I'mma be loaded with the wrapping papers like Elves on the Eves On Christmas; You cannot miss these simplistic buttered rhymes Spitting colors shit's ballistic If you don't understand look it up If you need help rapping homie I can hook it up Niggas be killing me, think they killing shit When they free styling and it's really written Your bars need more premeditated thoughts While I'm meditating with this medication I bought And that's straight from the West Coast These rappers talk shit 'til they hear me spit now that's less boast This whole team is superlative conspiracy Call a nigga out on his face there's no fearing me Niggas is lame Kept hanging they never going off like a fucking grease stain, mane Trying to obtain the big dollars, fuck a train Shout out to my nigga Slim--holla