Twitter Fingers

Lyrics

[**Intro: OMT Nate**] He got his twitter fingers itchin' Twenty-two [**Verse 1: OMT Nate**] He got his twitter fingers itchin', like what's he sniffin'? Dog hot and ready on the stove, Brian Griffin Two passed me an assist, I ain't gon' miss it' She got her hands open like a dog tryin' to get a biscuit I can break it down, bag it up, I don't need a 'digi' Before I start my car, start my Glock, I ain't gonna risk it Police pull me over, wipe me down, Omi got a ticket In the Surrey slums, killin' rats, really gettin' risky Your bitch don't cook and clean for you, but she do my dishes Scratchin' ops off, I just took em' off the fuckin' hit list Me and two droppin' tracks, landin' in the greatest hit list Ran too many down, my ankle got a Fitbit If your unclе got the bricks, I'm with it My bro fresh home from thе cell, acquitted My bitch get mad, she just thought I hit her sister Bro brought a fresh pint of Barre, I almost kissed it Sorry bae, nah, I ain't into hittin' women I'm into hittin' up your auntie for her pain prescriptions I make her sip a cup with me, now she walkin' different Now everybody in your hood know your auntie sniffin' I put the white in the pot, look like Meg Griffin My dog got a lean gut, look like Homer Simpson My dog beat a murder case, feel like O.J Simpson His bitch got a fat ass, she gon' [?] Trap hot, better get this bitch 'Craigslisted' Busy talkin' on the phone, let my lil' bro mix it Say you got another play, I'm with it You can meet me at the stop, I ain't lazy on the shipment [**Verse 2: WhyG**] I heard that bitch sellin' nines, I'mma band camp it The' mula' never came first so its sexual harassment Just brought out the boy with the 'switchy', let's see who move the fastest I put the metal to his head like it's chrome heart glasses It's December, but my killers shoot like it's March Madness My black 'custy', he a rockstar just like Lenny Kravitz You never did nothin' in your life to call yourself a savage I put that pussy in the earth, he sleepin' in a casket His momma wishin' he grow out of it just like a cabbage If he can smoke with your 'crodie', then we call it package I put a button on the 'glizzy', now it's automatic Feel like Black Adam with his 40, you don't want the static Make you feel like Black Panther, the counter smoke could get you vanished I put that boy in the sky, but he not acrobatic Half a breezy in the pot, I look like Billie Eilish And I'm designer head to toe, I don't need a stylist And now this treasure on my body made me feel like pirates And I can make a boy fly, he don't need a pilot Walk inside your trap, free dope, come and try it My 'custy' play guitar, look like Billy Ray Cyrus You know these bullets fuck your body up just like a virus She put the dope in a straight line, then put in her sinus When I cook the 'fenty' up, man, it look like science I would've stepped on Jack if I was the giant