"Dedd Barchetta" lyrics

Mic check, one-two, one-two
It's pronounced Barchetta
Chetta, not chey you fucking dumbass (Oh my gosh)
Chetta!

Just packed 50 fuckin' oppies in my Dedd Barchetta (Ha)
Cut 'em up and stack 'em nice, don't get no blood on the legs
Ain't tryna talk, just want the jaw because the head far great (Fuck)
You tote the 45, 'spose we goin' to war time mate

Yo, why you testin'? Here's a lesson, I go V for Vendetta
That Smith and Wesson go together like two birds of a feather
You try go play round with that pole, you spin around it like tether
They flyin' both sides, know there ain't no joy and no pleasure
Fuck ya goals guy, motherfuck ya cosign bitch (Cosign bitch)
Grab the bowie knife, stab him 34 times bitch
David Bowie type, Blackstar, throwin' scythes bitch
Act like Crona with these hoes, I eat your soul, bye bitch
I'm on the run (Ha)
Tell 'em Jimmy's comin' with lil' Janey
Don't enrage or piss her off you know that Janey got a motherfuckin' gun
I get Fendi-floatin' when I'm mothafuckin' tokin'
Crash a 47 Boeing to the mothafuckin' sun
How I rock, can not talk wit ya bro
Hate the pigs and the po', I'ma chokehold that motherfucker Trump
Throwin' rocks, throwin stones at your home
Get too close, I'ma knock u off ya toes out ya motherfuckin' trunks

Just packed 50 fuckin' oppies in my Dedd Barchetta (Ha)
Cut 'em up and stack 'em nice, don't get no blood on the legs
Ain't tryna talk, just want the jaw because the head far great (Fuck)
You tote the 45, 'spose we goin' to war time mate