Death of the Clique

Trenton Shaft

This is the only time I'm gonna let you motherfuckers breathe

I swear this wouldn't happen if jealousy ain't exist
They call for death of the bachelor, I said fuck the whole clique
It's a right of passage as a man when homies turn bitch
I might be throwing fists but I ain't ever loading up clips
Over loose lips, producing gibberish on the kid
If we all got talent, then why would I hold hands and babysit
When we could network and I don't know, maybe actually go legit
Like holy shit, let's all admit
That's an idea to run with quick
But wait a minute
Bummy motherfuckers want a payment
Even though he used to beg us to rap inside his basement
Like how we going global trapped doing these shows local
And both of y'all antisocial, I'm acting like I don't know you
What y'all need to do is get up off my dick, go chase a pay stub
Fuck, I look like taking fake slugs from you fake thugs
Wearing fake buffs just so you can frame your face up
Y'all bitch made, I'm a dying breed, you can't hang with us
Closest way to get to God is me or off of angel dust
Want to test your luck well ten upper cuts just for trying to stunt
Little runt
Proper one-on-one and I would fuck you up
Loser chump
Leave your body slumped, all without the pump
Pussy punk
Even bitches gave it up to Forrest Gump, what's your excuse
I ain't even give half a fuck to think what you would do
Rapping like I'm 50 no, I'm acting like I'm bulletproof
I might have to meet y'all soon if you don't think your pulling through
Cause old homies wanna hoe me
There's bitches I'd rather blow me
I wouldn't say that I'm lucky, just know that they'll never touch me
The flow is ugly, disgusting, and don't y'all ever discuss me
Unless I'm given permission, the subject is getting touchy
Highly underrated, yet still everybody's favorite
Stop flexing, it's all the same shit
They think that I'm acting famous
Oh homie, I'll show you famous
Go hand your mama the stainless
And point me out as the plaintiff
I'll wave and grin at arraignments
Cause you all up in my DMs saying you hoping that I crash
Aye lil bro, you ain't mad at me, you mad at your dad
You just mad cause you been looking at this life that you can't have
It's okay, I'll think about you every time I'm in my bag
For every time I pop a tag, oh, that little chain you have
I won't lie, it's worth a laugh, not even a snatch and grab
I would feel really bad and probably wanna give it back
And this the exact reason why you never wanna fuck with Shaft

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Das Lied “Death of the Clique” von Shaft wurde von Trenton Shaft komponiert.

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