Twelve bitches on me like I'm Jesus
They worship me like I'm the lord Jesus Christ
Got twelve bitches on me like Jesus f*cking Christ
I stay ghosting on these bitches like some banshees
20 little hotties following me I'm Jesus Christ
They could f*ck on me but they can't really have me
20 little hotties following I'm Jesus Christ
They could f*ck on me but they can't really have me
Feeling like a f*cking Monster, Kanye West
I could choke your bitch and snap her little neck
Your bitch topping me she's over here giving me head
She could leave me and I wouldn't even sweat it
Cause I would be right on to the next bitch
10 bitches that are fighting over me whose the next
Next time you say my name will be your f*cking last
Pipe bombs on deck
My clothes are f*cking drenched
In blood from your family's
Took some mescaline
In my pocket keep a knife I'm coming for your head
Guns on me like I went to school in Coral Springs it reflects
Pistols on me
Keep these bitches screaming like some banshees
Can't get the screams in and out, out my head
Like the demons in my head they want me dead
Can't get them out of my head
The demons that want me dead
Had to get my money up oh yes I did
Mark of the beast six hundred sixty six
Almost paid off the Benz oh yes he did
Feel like the devil coming for souls you bitch
Night shift lurking
Well your sleeping
I'm out there working
Seance for the dead
Early morning 333
Hands bloody red
I just read her text
Left your bitch on read
One time she's a mess
Wailing like banshee crying makeup a mess
She just slit her wrists now she's dead
She just slit her wrists and she's dead
Cause I stay ghosting on these bitches like some banshees
They could f*ck on me but they could never have me
In the night time feeling real fancy
In the f*cking night looking all grimy
It's The devil's hour
And I'm from Broward
And I'm from Broward
It's the devil's hour
I can't fall for these bitches
And their tricks
While your snoring im out late running shit
While your sleeping I just f*cked your bitch
Sorry
Broward County love song you can't trust a bitch
Especially bitches from round here they ain't on shit
Tulpadrip - Banshees Lyrics
Tulpadrip - Banshees Lyrics
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Twelve bitches on me like I'm Jesus
They worship me like I'm the lord Jesus Christ
Got twelve bitches on me like Jesus f*cking Christ
I stay ghosting on these bitches like some banshees
20 little hotties following me I'm Jesus Christ
They could f*ck on me but they can't really have me
20 little hotties following I'm Jesus Christ
They could f*ck on me but they can't really have me
Feeling like a f*cking Monster, Kanye West
I could choke your bitch and snap her little neck
Your bitch topping me she's over here giving me head
She could leave me and I wouldn't even sweat it
Cause I would be right on to the next bitch
10 bitches that are fighting over me whose the next
Next time you say my name will be your f*cking last
Pipe bombs on deck
My clothes are f*cking drenched
In blood from your family's
Took some mescaline
In my pocket keep a knife I'm coming for your head
Guns on me like I went to school in Coral Springs it reflects
Pistols on me
Keep these bitches screaming like some banshees
Can't get the screams in and out, out my head
Like the demons in my head they want me dead
Can't get them out of my head
The demons that want me dead
Had to get my money up oh yes I did
Mark of the beast six hundred sixty six
Almost paid off the Benz oh yes he did
Feel like the devil coming for souls you bitch
Night shift lurking
Well your sleeping
I'm out there working
Seance for the dead
Early morning 333
Hands bloody red
I just read her text
Left your bitch on read
One time she's a mess
Wailing like banshee crying makeup a mess
She just slit her wrists now she's dead
She just slit her wrists and she's dead
Cause I stay ghosting on these bitches like some banshees
They could f*ck on me but they could never have me
In the night time feeling real fancy
In the f*cking night looking all grimy
It's The devil's hour
And I'm from Broward
And I'm from Broward
It's the devil's hour
I can't fall for these bitches
And their tricks
While your snoring im out late running shit
While your sleeping I just f*cked your bitch
Sorry
Broward County love song you can't trust a bitch
Especially bitches from round here they ain't on shit
They worship me like I'm the lord Jesus Christ
Got twelve bitches on me like Jesus f*cking Christ
I stay ghosting on these bitches like some banshees
20 little hotties following me I'm Jesus Christ
They could f*ck on me but they can't really have me
20 little hotties following I'm Jesus Christ
They could f*ck on me but they can't really have me
Feeling like a f*cking Monster, Kanye West
I could choke your bitch and snap her little neck
Your bitch topping me she's over here giving me head
She could leave me and I wouldn't even sweat it
Cause I would be right on to the next bitch
10 bitches that are fighting over me whose the next
Next time you say my name will be your f*cking last
Pipe bombs on deck
My clothes are f*cking drenched
In blood from your family's
Took some mescaline
In my pocket keep a knife I'm coming for your head
Guns on me like I went to school in Coral Springs it reflects
Pistols on me
Keep these bitches screaming like some banshees
Can't get the screams in and out, out my head
Like the demons in my head they want me dead
Can't get them out of my head
The demons that want me dead
Had to get my money up oh yes I did
Mark of the beast six hundred sixty six
Almost paid off the Benz oh yes he did
Feel like the devil coming for souls you bitch
Night shift lurking
Well your sleeping
I'm out there working
Seance for the dead
Early morning 333
Hands bloody red
I just read her text
Left your bitch on read
One time she's a mess
Wailing like banshee crying makeup a mess
She just slit her wrists now she's dead
She just slit her wrists and she's dead
Cause I stay ghosting on these bitches like some banshees
They could f*ck on me but they could never have me
In the night time feeling real fancy
In the f*cking night looking all grimy
It's The devil's hour
And I'm from Broward
And I'm from Broward
It's the devil's hour
I can't fall for these bitches
And their tricks
While your snoring im out late running shit
While your sleeping I just f*cked your bitch
Sorry
Broward County love song you can't trust a bitch
Especially bitches from round here they ain't on shit
Writer: Tulpa Drip
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid