Heavy metal, heavy metal What do you want Between the eyes I hear it screaming And it electrifies Your inner feelings Hot shock waves charge the air All heads are banging Fists pumping everywhere

Murda on the beat with the murder man Ben Simmons shake 'em with the left hand Steppin' on his dope like a step dad Too turnt up, can't help that Shittin' on a hater no Ex-Lax Watch so dumb it got kept back Bitch so thick, she can't help that 'Cause she

Blood, blood, blood, pump mud through my veins Shut your dirty, dirty mouth, I'm not that insane I'm a dirty, dirty girl, I want it filthy I hate you for the sacrifices you made for me I hate you for every time you ever bled for me I hate you for the way

When I'm kissing my love Just a thumping and a skipping Feel the blood a pumping in my veins She's such a tender sender With her sweet young friends She's so good at what she does All she wants to do is kiss and hug She's got me in love

And all I gotta do Hey, me or you Oh, all I want to know Who'd I do this for With just a touch of my burning hand Prime directive, exterminate And your face just drops in a pile of flesh Till it pumps in death

I just bought 3 thousand dollar Gucci pants (Gucci pants) I just left the trap, and I'm off the Xans (and I'm off the Xans) Bitch, I'm high as fuck, I feel like Superman (what, what?) I'm the biggest flexer, you know who I am (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,

You remind me of my jeep, I want to ride it Something like my sound, I want to pump it Girl you look just like my cars, I want to wax it And something like my bank account I want to spend it, baby I want to roll it, roll it, roll it, roll it Is all I

Ayy, ayy, ayy, tell me what you know 'Bout a motherfucker out the bottom, with a gold grill gleamin' Makin' all these hoes problems Stalker, creepin' out the fuckin' dungeon Switchblade on 'em, hit the guts like a pumpkin, dumpin' Thirty rounds of the

Pistol grip pump on my lap at all times They can be fucking with other niggas shit, but they can't be fucking with mine I was raised in the hood called what the diffrence The brothers in the hood be chivalrous So I rest defense on my ligaments Pistol

Give me fuel, Give me fire, Burning hard, loose and clean Quench my thirst with gasoline Churning my direction, Ohhh, on I burn Fuel is pumping engines Give me that which I desire,