Sofa by Tom The Mail Man Lyrics
[Verse 1: Tom The Mail Man]
Heartless
Bitch yeah, that shit pierced like cartilage
Knife through that place where my mo'fucking heart is
She bad as fuck so the crime might be pardoned
She like to start shit and I push to start it
Brand new whip from TDC it's plastered on the back of it
I pack that shit like swisher sweets, I'm rapping on some platinum shit
Ayy, at me bitch, when you're talking using your fucking chest
So I can hyperbeam that shit and put my demons all to rest
I flex like like I'm on some ignorant shit
But if you push my limits, bitch, I might get ignorant quick
Like putting niggas around bitches, who like egos is big
You got my feelings all hit
And bitch I feel like a kid, in grown man's shoes
Fucking dying, nigga where the Senzus? I'm mental
Niggas think I'm cool cause I can ride, uh
'Cause I can ride this, um
This fucking instrumental
[Verse 2: Mrtl gawd]
Uh, uh, yeah
Quesos in my pocket, I exceed the quotas
Your bitch my bitch, his chick don't smoke
But you know marijuana's
On the couch, I'm tee'd out, but nigga, barely mobile
Pop the trunk, yeah, 'bout that skunk, yeah I lick top of yogurt
I'm fully loaded like I'm Herbie, same suit
Martin Luther, fuck that bitchin'
4-5 on the waist, 45 i'm back to back
Left 'em shook without a hook
'Cause me and mine go back to back
You know Tom deliver rhymes, and he just drop me off a pack
I'm so solo, no Derulo, all these niggas hella pseudo
Get your weight up, he ain't eating how I feast, like I'm a sumo
Grease, rest in peace to Peep
Peeping how I speak, like bitch I talk it didn't exist
Pistol came in with a grip
Main objective is to rid all these niggas
I got the X and A-B combo
Swear, it's it for you niggas
Hella rusty, but I'm serving, need a tip from you niggas
Boy, I flatten out the track, extended clip on my pillow
[Verse 3: Mrtl Gawd & Tom The Mail Man]
Basic kick, always knocking, line 'em up with a beam
I swear to God, I have 'em stomach talking shit
How I'm always talking shit
Guacamole's in my molds, like "Why he always talking chips?"
And I'm hardened after three the way my mo'fuckin' rock get hit
Spot him quick and take him out
I ain't got no patience now
You bitches acting shady so I shine in my Mercedes, ow
Though it hurts, kick the verse instead of cursing bitches out
Your mama said I'm bout it, pops, so all them niggas missing out
[Outro: Tom The Mail Man & Mrtl Gawd]
Clout sucking bitches
Dirty toe having bitches
Flapjack booty having ass bitches (Ayy, uh)
I'm salty as fuck (Salty as fuck)
You got mail
Heartless
Bitch yeah, that shit pierced like cartilage
Knife through that place where my mo'fucking heart is
She bad as fuck so the crime might be pardoned
She like to start shit and I push to start it
Brand new whip from TDC it's plastered on the back of it
I pack that shit like swisher sweets, I'm rapping on some platinum shit
Ayy, at me bitch, when you're talking using your fucking chest
So I can hyperbeam that shit and put my demons all to rest
I flex like like I'm on some ignorant shit
But if you push my limits, bitch, I might get ignorant quick
Like putting niggas around bitches, who like egos is big
You got my feelings all hit
And bitch I feel like a kid, in grown man's shoes
Fucking dying, nigga where the Senzus? I'm mental
Niggas think I'm cool cause I can ride, uh
'Cause I can ride this, um
This fucking instrumental
[Verse 2: Mrtl gawd]
Uh, uh, yeah
Quesos in my pocket, I exceed the quotas
Your bitch my bitch, his chick don't smoke
But you know marijuana's
On the couch, I'm tee'd out, but nigga, barely mobile
Pop the trunk, yeah, 'bout that skunk, yeah I lick top of yogurt
I'm fully loaded like I'm Herbie, same suit
Martin Luther, fuck that bitchin'
4-5 on the waist, 45 i'm back to back
Left 'em shook without a hook
'Cause me and mine go back to back
You know Tom deliver rhymes, and he just drop me off a pack
I'm so solo, no Derulo, all these niggas hella pseudo
Get your weight up, he ain't eating how I feast, like I'm a sumo
Grease, rest in peace to Peep
Peeping how I speak, like bitch I talk it didn't exist
Pistol came in with a grip
Main objective is to rid all these niggas
I got the X and A-B combo
Swear, it's it for you niggas
Hella rusty, but I'm serving, need a tip from you niggas
Boy, I flatten out the track, extended clip on my pillow
[Verse 3: Mrtl Gawd & Tom The Mail Man]
Basic kick, always knocking, line 'em up with a beam
I swear to God, I have 'em stomach talking shit
How I'm always talking shit
Guacamole's in my molds, like "Why he always talking chips?"
And I'm hardened after three the way my mo'fuckin' rock get hit
Spot him quick and take him out
I ain't got no patience now
You bitches acting shady so I shine in my Mercedes, ow
Though it hurts, kick the verse instead of cursing bitches out
Your mama said I'm bout it, pops, so all them niggas missing out
[Outro: Tom The Mail Man & Mrtl Gawd]
Clout sucking bitches
Dirty toe having bitches
Flapjack booty having ass bitches (Ayy, uh)
I'm salty as fuck (Salty as fuck)
You got mail