BAD MOOD Lyrics

Thought I'd give my opps a lil somethin' they can dance to

Ex-girl busted, I know she been ran through

She say go to hell, I said lol I plan to

Showed up to the party even though I'm in a bad mood

Dressed in all black in the back of the back room

Got too high, then I threw up in the bathroom

White girl keep tryna compliment my tattoo's

While her boyfriend mean muggin', tryna act cool

I don't like how they take themselves so serious

Shorty to turnt, she a little bicurious

Hit my girl line like she down to experiment

I don't blame her for her wanting an experience

Labels call around like, hold up, is you hearin' this

Loud ghetto hoe runnin' round, yellin' period

I'm playing frisbee with your dead homies halo

Heard he got hit first boy, you can be the sequel

I can pull up on Apple or I can pull up on Getty

Or I can pull up on Holt, I mean, whenever you ready

And I don't wanna smack a bitch, please don't make me hit Becky

And it's been a long day, but I love bein' petty

And these loud ratchet hoes don't do nothin' for me

I cut my last shorty cause the bitch was gettin' corny

Don't ask her what happened, she always changin' up the story

Don't believe me you can fly my ass out to Maury

Like, damn, I ain't mean to ruin your plans

But I thought I'd give another crazy white girl back their chance

She just wanna do her dance

And I tell her no-no when she reachin' for my pants

Now they sayin' tell us all how come

Cause if I give in now, you already know the outcome

Just cause my name Shaft don't mean we using magnums

Six inch, still big enough to go platinum

Talkin' bout a get back, you need to get your bitch back

Pull up real fast, gave my neck a little whiplash

I ain't with the talkin', the DMs, and the chit-chat

You a bitch and your bitch a hoe, that's a mix-match

White boy, honky, man, he lookin' like riff-raff

Dance on em' do the moonwalk, get your mic jacked

Growl when I'm lookin' at a hoe cause I'm like that

I don't care, I said I'm like that

Shhhhhh

All white fit Sunday

Step in a church like I walked in a runway

Don't diss me if you're three years late

You think it's never too late

What, three days grace

Boy, I been high as hell for like three days straight

Say you got your own flow, yet, you copy and paste

Need to find your own voice, get the fuck out my face

Say you fucked on my ex, well shit, how do I taste

How you copying pop and yet you don't want the smoke

Give a fuck about old boy, bro, been a joke

Fuck around, eyes closed, I can make it from the half-court

Boy, you my son, get spanked from the backboard

Took a little break, I guess I'm back for more

And I don't do the back and forth

I just give em' what they askin' for

Only Mac I'll ever respect is Mac Miller

And let's face it, homie, you kinda more like Macklemore

Irrelevant as fuck, you won't make it for nothin'

And my response too good, like you should be grateful or somethin'

Like I'm Curry or somethin', I do you dirty or somethin'

Wings on my shoes, kinda like I'm Hermes or somethin'

Larry birdy or somethin', I mean the way that I been dunkin'

You been on my tip so much, I thought you'd be glad that I be comin'

Swerve in your lane, hit the rat, I'm servin' roadkill

If I don't get you back, I know my homie will

Talkin' bout a get-back, you need to get your bitch back

Pull up real fast, gave my neck a little whiplash

I ain't with the talkin', the DMs and the chit-chat

You a bitch and your bitch a hoe, that's a mix-match

White boy, honky, man, he lookin' like riff-raff

Dance on him, do the moonwalk, get your mic jacked

Growl when I'm lookin' at a hoe, cause I'm like that

That don't make sense

I don't care, I said I'm like that