Bezerk

Album: single release only (2019)
Charted: 89
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  • Yeah, yeah (Hit-Boy)
    Whoa, yeah-yeah, whoa
    Sean, what up, nigga?
    Yeah (yeah), yeah, yeah
    Lil' bitch

    Couple riders with them llamas if you pick a bone wit' me
    Put my bitch up on designer, got Balenci' on her feet
    My momma say a couple prayers, keep them demons off me
    'Cause I know I'm out here blessed, I got so many reasons on me
    Yeah, niggas done tried and niggas done died, too many believers around me
    Yeah, I know my enemies meeting up, double teaming on me
    Now you know nobody tried that ever got pieces off me
    Fucking these hoes 'til they be dying, don't catch a seizure on me
    See, Ferg used to move the product in the old school (yeah)
    Thumbing through paper from last year but it's not old news (right)
    My psycho bitch, she got me shopping up at Whole Foods
    Fucking these cougars like a young nigga supposed to
    I got your bitch up on the mattress while I'm flyin' OT (woo)
    I'm sick and tired of all the yapping, little nigga I'm your OG (woo)
    My diamonds shining like the ball that drop on New Year's Eve (come on)
    And she countdown to the D, she be like "5-4-3"

    Now drop down, you a freak (Milly rock)
    Bend it over, touch your feet (yeah)
    Shake that booty, I know it's little but unique (so unique)
    Back that thing up on my nigga from the D (oh, that's me?)

    Okay, back out the hearse, they trapped out the church (woo)
    Niggas say my name, okay they asked for the worst (come on)
    Me and A$AP Ferg preaching back-to-back on the verse (damn)
    Hit-Boy on the beat so, bitch, you gotta go berserk (that's right)
    Kill 'em off one by one, "Final Destination"
    Fuck that medication, I'm sipping cold flu Echinacea (come on)
    You done fucked up, I stayed up, sleep deprivation (woo)
    They on the search nigga (uh) know your worth nigga (yeah)
    Tell the DJ bring it back, reimburse niggas (damn)
    HamduAllah, my finance advisers been through hell
    Oh well, psh, we on fire (woo, woo)
    Brung her back home more times than Maguire, higher (grr)
    Trap Lord packed out the risers
    Been getting his bread, your pocket on carb diets
    I just start up a riot at all the Hyatts
    And make them hoes leave right before they cook the omelets (woo, woo)

    Drop down (whoa) you a freak (whoa)
    Bend it over (yeah) touch your feet (touch your feet)
    Shake that booty, I know it's little but unique (so unique)
    Back that thing up on my nigga from the D (oh, that's me?)
    Now, drop down (down), you a freak (huh)
    Bend it over, whoa (come on), touch your feet (touch your feet)
    Shake that booty, I know it's little but unique (so unique)
    Then throw it back on my nigga from NYC (oh, that's me?), yeah

    Yeah (yeah), yeah (yeah)
    Me and A$AP Ferg preaching back-to-back on the verse
    Hit-Boy on the beat so, bitch, you gotta go berserk (that's right) Writer/s: Chauncey A. Hollis, Darold Ferguson, Dustin James Corbett, Greg Allen Davis, Sean Michael Anderson
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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