I used to play fair with these bytches
Now I can't share air with these bytches
So Ugo gotta bury these bytches
How de fuk you a sir when you bytchin?
So you thought you were different, and would
Slip throught the crack, when you running from
Ugo, bullets hitting your back, you log on to the
Coli, talking bout Asap Rocky, looking at your
Photoshop of your face giving him sloppy ...
It was made in such detail, dat your cheek has
A dikk print, you a graphic designer, with a lack
Of vagina, call me Ugo Ogugwa I'll put the mac
To your line up, I'll push your wig like a shopping
Cart, African rider, I am African made, you a fakkit
And slave, suckin dik of Asap, is how you fathom
Your day, worst part of this shyt, is dat you're surely
A bytch, you were afraid of this track and now you
Playing it back, twirling in a circle and your dress
Looks like a helicopter, your eyes are closed and
You dreamin like I'd never pop up, Ogugwa has
The hand of God I'll slap your face, while my
Other hand is gripping on your mother's waist
got fukkin roasted tho
....this shyt right here though might be his best drop...
