Green Lantern

(Esko) (No way, Hozay) Huh, yeah Heard it's snakes in the grass, I got a— Bitch Yeah Heard it's snakes in the grass, I got a weed whacker Every piece hitting in the store, I'm the Green Lantern Nah, for real, made ten off of three smackers Road running OT, it's fuckin with my sleep pattern Used to hate when the chain on my bike pop Now it's widebody, do the dash, I'm living life now Went to Hutch off top, fuck an Icebox In the Windy City, sticks on us like the White Sox Thank God 'cause back then I ain't have much Why the fuck style biters tryna swag munch? Used to crack jokes, seen him out, he ain't laugh once Talking 'bout you smoke za, you ain't never had Runtz In the rental, i-12 hooked up to the CarPlay If I see them blue and red lights, it's a car chase Shoot MIA, living life like I'm Scarface Leave a bitch sick, boy, I specialize in heartbreaks Dropping red in the Sprite, this ain't a Shirley Temple Shoot here, shoot there, I done ran through thirty rentals Caught him at the red light, he tried to work the pedal Dog need a tetanus shot, hit him with some dirty metal Fuck, get him out of there Feel like Jordin Sparks, three-five, bitch, I'm out of air Get the head, then I'm walking out without a care White buffs, mirror tint, boy, your bitch bound to stare Hitting hoes, see more butts than an ash tray Going out like Mike, bet I win it on my last game Shitty charm bust and I can't forget The Lab chain How I'm feeling, fuck an RT, I want that Lamb thing How I'm feeling, fuck a mil' ticket, want a billion Yeah, I heard his song, truth is, that ain't really him If you ain't scam, fam, no, you can't get Jimmy BIN Group of hoes see me, all I heard is, "Is that really him?" Spit fire in the booth, I only drop gems You typed a tough-ass paragraph and did not send You a role player, at the most, you gon' drop ten Hardbody, bitch, I won't break, I cannot bend Two hundred dollar tip to make up for my table manners Pull up on your bitch, get in her walls, I'ma cable man her A hundred rounder, boom, boom, bet we made 'em scatter He tried to run off and get ghost and became a Casper On a Samsung punching Apple products Bitch, you better shut up 'fore I scam your mama Let me talk my shit, lil' bitch, I ain't have a dollar Pink Runtz, pink Triple S, yeah, it match the 'Iagas High as hell, blowing clouds like a comic book Pull up with a skillet on the shh and we got 'em cooked Whole pack of 'Woods through, how the fuck that fronto look? Shit talker, boy, this ain't got no hook Huh, ayy, ShittyBoyz