[Intro]
B-B-Boxcutters
[Verse I: Karm the Tool]
B-B-Bad bitch
She want me, she on me
Ugh-uh-uh-uh
She rubbin' on my c- (That’s a Tommy)
U-U-U-Ugh, Uh-Ugh
I fuck her ‘till she walkin’ like a zombie
All silk sheets, walking down in Ferragamo (Ugh, Ugh, Ugh-h-h-h-h)
Bad bitch
She want me, she on me
Ugh
She rubbin’ on my cock like (That’s a Tommy)
Ugh
I fuck her ‘till she walkin’ like a zombie
All silk sheets, walking down in Ferragamo
[Chorus: Karm the Tool]
I-I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I-I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like dying
I-I-I-I (I feel like, I feel like dying)
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
[Verse II: Karm the Tool & Yung Skayda]
I paint my boots with blood of gods
My niggas are killas
I’ll slit your throat ‘cause you are not
My gang go guerilla
You lackin', boy put up your guard
My bullet you catching
Don’t test me boy, I do a lot
I scream “Fuck it!”
I still get high at the function
Make sure drive the deduction
Why you gon’ riot for nothin’?
I break my skull
On the pavement when I take my toll
Don’t let the reaper ever take my soul
If it gets taken, I will let you know
Whe-whe-whe-whe-when I get rid of it
Bitch, you talkin’ shit?
I’ll punch your lip ‘cause I get sick of it
And I’m on your block
So now you toast just like it's cinnamon
I been hella angry
You can tell how I’ve been living it
Copped a fire Rollie
Now I feel like I’m the president
Shawty put a cigarette out on my legs
Two twin Glocks turn a thug into a bitch
[Chorus: Karm the Tool]
I-I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I-I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like dying
I-I-I-I (I feel like, I feel like dying)
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
[Verse III: Death Tour]
Do you feel like dying?
I feel like dying when I’m high as shit
I'm a glitch in the system
Manic corona viruses
Damn, I'm getting turnt
One for the turnt
Put him in a hearse
Now I walk with a verse (Yeah)
Rude divas (Ayy)
Rude divas
Crew of divas (Yeah)
We the true divas
Two divas
Moving two seaters (Ah!)
Damn, mamacita said I look good in cheetah
I'ma be the Jesus of swag, believe it-t-t-t-t-t
Black press-ons (Uh)
Black dress on (Yeah)
You could die from obsession
Who you tryna' flex on? (Woah)
They said they don't want my body but she on my body
Your bitch with somebody and it's me, I am burning
Bad for the swag (Ooh)
Dead in my bag
Death Tour
Dead presidents out the a-a-a-a-a-ass
Killing myself and this swag too costly
Bitch, I'm just cocky
You gon' have to off me
[Chorus: Karm the Tool]
I-I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I-I-I-I-I feel like, I feel like dying
I-I-I-I (I feel like, I feel like dying)
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying
I feel like, I feel like dying