Booze Shit

They don't ribbit but they leaping to conclusions

Fuck them let them judge me I ain't sitting front of Judith

Demon with a stick in his belt its protruding

Cross me like we balling you won't live to see the hoop mix

Bitch give me knowledge, give me brain, I'm a student

I'm graduating daily give me flowers I need two lips

You know brodie ruthless, he might spray you like some new kicks

And I got a Fanta with a Percocet, let's go stupid

If I'm in your mouth you 'bout to see us with a toothpick

And I count the extra ten percent like I'm Lucas

Brodie' got a forty in his jacket not that booze shit

I'm dissing Cinderella, might be you who the shoe fits