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Brrt, brrt, baow (Buddah Bless this beat)

Imagine niggas lyin' 'bout shootin' a real bitch (huh?)
Just to save face for rapper niggas you chill with
Imagine me givin' a fuck it was your fuckin' birthday (fuck you)
You in your feelings, I just thought it was another Thursday
Now imagine me cockblockin' niggas on some dry shit (what?)
I don't want you on the bench
Believe you wouldn't've been invited (you wouldn't've been invited)
And if it weren't for me, same week
You would have been indicted (should've let them lock your ass up)
You offered M's not to talk, I guess that made my friend excited, hmm
Now y'all in cahoots, huh (okay), you a puss in boots
You shot a 5'10" bitch with a. 22
Talkin' 'bout bones and tendons like them bullets wasn't pellets
A pussy nigga with a pussy gun in his feelings
Okay, he in the backseat and he keep callin' me a bitch (he a bitch)
We all know the shit I could've came back with (lil'-ass nigga)
He talkin' 'bout his followers, dollars, and goofy shit
I told him: You're not poppin', you just on the remix (what's poppin'?)
Now here we are, 2020, eight months later
And we still ain't got no fuckin' justice for Breonna Taylor (Breonna Taylor)
Any nigga on that nigga's side is a clout chaser (fuck y'all)
A bitch who he fuckin' or a ho that he payin', uh

Imagine me, hahaha
Imagine me entertaining you fuckin' goofy-ass niggas and you fuckin' goofy-ass bitches
Brrt, brrt, blaow (Buddah Bless this beat)

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Written by: Allie Wrubel & Megan Thee Stallion / Buddah Bless / Herb Magidson / Megan Thee Stallion. Isn't this right? Let us know.