witted - Death by Glamour Lyrics

Stick, yah, Stick, yah
Uh, he mad he can't find this drip, yeah, it's Rick, yeah
Oh, his lil' bitch wanna take a pic, ya, yeah, ya
My bitch so annoying, want matching fits, ya, yeah, ya
Two shots out the Micro Drac' like
One, fa, two, fa
Uhh"How many bullets up in the mag?" Two-five, yeah, five
Uh, my bruddanem did that hit, still I'm like"Who died?" yeah, died
Uh, they wanna look how I look, 'cause I'm a cool guy, on God
Uh, how do you expect to go up worryin' bout the shit that you don't got?
Eh, I don't never wanna grow up, but I know that I don't wanna die
All these niggas never showed up, but soon as I go up, they like"Congrats, Khai"
Huh, I got the keys to collecting this green, I ain't talkin 'bout the lime pie
(Ergg) Steppin' on shit, yeah, I'm f*ckin' they backs up, who got the Salonpas?
Oh, baby this a long ride
I know I f*ck up a lot, but in the end, I promise, it's gon' be alright (Gon be alright)"How the f*ck am I alive?" is some shit I couldn't tell you if I tried
(Yeah) Baby please don't lie
Tell me, do you wanna die tonight?
Stick up, stick up
After I f*ck this bitch back to gettin' rich, ya, rich, ya
I'm tryna red out the bezel like I shot my wrist, ya, wrist, ya
Sh-showed her what we really countin, she flop like a fish, ya
Flick shot
He ran up quick and got hit quick, ahh
Ahh, you just so different, bae
You been the top of the Thick-list, ahh
Yeah, I could go missin' bae
Tell me, would you have forgiveness? (Ahh)
Uh, no pendants, yeah, rather go drop 100 at the dentist, ya
F*ck opinions, yeah
Everything I don't know is just a
(Ladies booty bounce to this)
(What)
(What)
(What, what)
(What)
(Whaa)