"The Ghost Of Emmett Till" lyrics
Triggers bustin', you niggas duckin', I need to repent (How'd you feel?)
Hold the heat like I harbor hate for the high-income tenants
Serving Venus and get Serena to pitch up the tennis (Feel alright?)
Niggas don't be ballin', ya numbers looking like Anthony Bennett (Y'all feel like that?)
Fuck Caroline Bryant, my niggas dying, it's R.I.P. Emmett
She did the crime but ain't do the time, she in Hell with no helmet
I'm in her mouth, got her biting down on the crown like a dentist
You in the field but you playing 'round, you ain't ready to scrimmage
I feel like Popeye exposing you niggas' bitches to spinach
I heard that bitch got that Nancy Reagan, the head is the illest
I'm breaking bread with the killers, fighting my demons on Triller (Y'all feel like that?)
When I hit your bitch from the back, she going from sprinter to quitter
She on her knees for the Lord, but she bending over for sinners
I'm in her lips like some filler, you in the basement like Tigger
Yo' bitch wanna fuck with a winner, I'm finna fuck 'round and let her
Who in the fuck is telling you niggas to bet?
You niggas wet behind the ears, you should invest in a vest
I'm so obsessed with success, I be making my reps
I never made it to the league and I still play with the best
I left a famous bitch on read and she still sending me texts (Y'all feel like that?)
I'm switchin' rights, rights, and left, now you under arrest
They put a knife to your vest, now you under duress
You don't wanna catch me stranded on a roadside
JBL, you goin' to Hell and catch a clothesline
Baby wanna run it up, campaigning on a whole lie
I'ma rent the whole park, bitches want no lines
Running off the hinges, I'm steady slippin' with other bitches
It's 75 a ticket, it's double digits, we gotta flip it
I can never stick 'em, I gotta pick 'em, I want a ribbon
All these sticks up in my linen, they out the closet like Don Lemon
Nigga
Who in the fuck is telling you niggas to bet?
You niggas wet behind the ears, you need to parlay with success
I'm so obsessed with success, I be making my reps (Y'all feel alright?)
I never made it to the league and I still play with the best
I left a famous bitch on read and she still sending me texts (Y'all feel like that?)
I'm switchin' rights, rights, and left, now you under arrest
They put a knife to your vest, now you under duress, uh
Y'all feel like that?
Alright, one, two–!
Hold the heat like I harbor hate for the high-income tenants
Serving Venus and get Serena to pitch up the tennis (Feel alright?)
Niggas don't be ballin', ya numbers looking like Anthony Bennett (Y'all feel like that?)
Fuck Caroline Bryant, my niggas dying, it's R.I.P. Emmett
She did the crime but ain't do the time, she in Hell with no helmet
I'm in her mouth, got her biting down on the crown like a dentist
You in the field but you playing 'round, you ain't ready to scrimmage
I feel like Popeye exposing you niggas' bitches to spinach
I heard that bitch got that Nancy Reagan, the head is the illest
I'm breaking bread with the killers, fighting my demons on Triller (Y'all feel like that?)
When I hit your bitch from the back, she going from sprinter to quitter
She on her knees for the Lord, but she bending over for sinners
I'm in her lips like some filler, you in the basement like Tigger
Yo' bitch wanna fuck with a winner, I'm finna fuck 'round and let her
Who in the fuck is telling you niggas to bet?
You niggas wet behind the ears, you should invest in a vest
I'm so obsessed with success, I be making my reps
I never made it to the league and I still play with the best
I left a famous bitch on read and she still sending me texts (Y'all feel like that?)
I'm switchin' rights, rights, and left, now you under arrest
They put a knife to your vest, now you under duress
You don't wanna catch me stranded on a roadside
JBL, you goin' to Hell and catch a clothesline
Baby wanna run it up, campaigning on a whole lie
I'ma rent the whole park, bitches want no lines
Running off the hinges, I'm steady slippin' with other bitches
It's 75 a ticket, it's double digits, we gotta flip it
I can never stick 'em, I gotta pick 'em, I want a ribbon
All these sticks up in my linen, they out the closet like Don Lemon
Nigga
Who in the fuck is telling you niggas to bet?
You niggas wet behind the ears, you need to parlay with success
I'm so obsessed with success, I be making my reps (Y'all feel alright?)
I never made it to the league and I still play with the best
I left a famous bitch on read and she still sending me texts (Y'all feel like that?)
I'm switchin' rights, rights, and left, now you under arrest
They put a knife to your vest, now you under duress, uh
Y'all feel like that?
Alright, one, two–!
