Talkin' Shit

[Verse 1: Dalima]

Yo, Dalima in the club with that good aroma

Yellin at that chick that got shit I wanna

Know and that I really could if I wanna

But I'd rather get a drink than pour it on her, ha

Cuz I'm known for that, fucked up drunk off koniak

Got narcotic won't roll the sacks up in the back

Where the pack of security at, so, on the real I'm used to this

Throw your hands up oh deucin this

Brand new trucks all blue and this

Without a doubt and I doubt yall used to this

Uh so don't be acting scared cuz we just love to stay in pairs

Talk talk like we don't care we'll fuck your hoes and pull they hair

But the nigga for real dubbed out with a doubt like half a pill

You niggas be saving them hoes thats for real, cup taking and trickin all your skrill

When I burst centrifugal, critical individual bust a lyrical eye make her when I be

Enemy mixed of pitiful then send a couple of my gilla niggas to get you

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Dalima]

Put game on the track when I rack it up

Got a bad lil bitch tryna back it up

Tellin me whatever to get me to acting up

But then dalima X'ed out for harrassin us

No, and she actin pissed got mad cuz a nigga done called her bitch (bitch!)

Tryna hate cuz she felt her pits then told another chick that I ain't shit, so

It don't even matter, you can ask her kaliko is scatter

Tech got a slut plus she bad e-nough to make anybody go bananas

Yo, but it don't phase me, what would chick be thinkin that she could play me

Even if you could get me to thinkin maybe, it's all good cuz I've been drinkin baby (No)

This pimp will next her, don't sip it when I grip when I text her

Cop four with the kid from dexter, bottle the lab with a bag protector (eyy)

I'm bringin the heat, young Dalima da gilla fin to aim the piece

You can't talk slit to a can of grease talk shit if you want dude we talkin shit

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Tech N9ne]

I think I hit her in the parkin lot

A little wild chick in here that can bark a lot (Woof)

Went ballistic when I spark the crotch

Looking for niggas like where for art the cock

When I went into the barber shop

Then a nigga knew the rumors are gonna start to pop

Stop, me at the barber shots

What I remember with the kooch she really farts a lot

Then I had to call my nigga dalima

And he said he was fucked up and he could barely remember the what?

Nigga said that he could barely remember the gut

Then he said he couldn't even remember the nut

So I step in the club stern, no shit real quick a nigga shrug burn

And said when will you sluts learn, that every one of my bitches they got rug burn

Groupie bitch steady runnin your mouth, caddy maddy gimme the gat

And now we gunnin your mouth, run in your house 'cause you was sayin something about

Tecca Nina hittin vageena leavin cum on the couch

Don't make me have to go and summon the grouch

Put you where nobody will come when you shout (Hey!)

You better go and try to come a new route

Or lay in front of me what you tell me who out, Bitch!