[Intro – dark melody, whispers, no drums yet]
Yeah…
I don’t give a fuck who hear this.
I meant every word, bitch.
Blood on me, and I sleep just fine.
⸻
[Verse 1]
Fuck that peace talk, fuck that lil’ truce,
Pull up on his block, let that .30 cut loose.
Fuck a threat — if I say it, it’s done,
I don’t shoot for the leg, bitch, I aim for the lungs.
He was cryin’ like a bitch when that hot shit hit,
Beggin’ for his life — I ain’t feel shit.
I ain’t religious, I don’t need no cross,
I need a fresh clip, and a body to toss.
Bitch I’m heartless, I’m soulless, I’m cold in the chest,
If I hear he breathin’? I ain’t finished yet.
Your homie got smoked, and you still ain’t slide,
You post RIP, I leave moms cryin’ live.
⸻
[Hook – loud, bass heavy, mean as fuck]
Fuck that bitch, fuck his set, fuck his name,
I put three in his face, now they lightin’ them flames.
Blood on my shirt, blood on my blade,
I send muthafuckas straight to the grave.
Fuck a threat, fuck a prayer, fuck his block,
I came with the Glock, and I left with the drop.
Blood on my hands, blood on my name,
I ain’t feel a fuckin’ thing — I’d do it again.
⸻
[Verse 2 – even more profanity, even darker tone]
Bitch, I’ll air this whole fuckin’ house out,
Kill his dog, his girl, and whoever else round.
I don’t do warnings, I don’t do posts,
I just creep through the dark and turn men to ghosts.
Your whole crew pussy, they don’t want war,
Y’all scared of the smoke like a gaslit whore.
Y’all play thug on the ’Gram with your fake-ass tools,
While I emptied whole clips out in front of schools.
Fuck your cousin, fuck your uncle, fuck your squad,
If you speak on my name, you gon’ meet your God.
Ain’t no love in my heart, just demons and lead,
I see a bitch blink wrong, I paint that red.
⸻
[Hook – repeat, louder, more anger in delivery]
Fuck that bitch, fuck his set, fuck his name,
I put three in his face, now they lightin’ them flames.
Blood on my shirt, blood on my blade,
I send muthafuckas straight to the grave.
Fuck a threat, fuck a prayer, fuck his block,
I came with the Glock, and I left with the drop.
Blood on my hands, blood on my name,
I ain’t feel a fuckin’ thing — I’d do it again.
⸻
[Outro – no drums, just piano loop fading out]
Yeah…
I don’t lose sleep.
I lose enemies.
Blood on my name.
Fuck who feel a way.
