Aitch: FTA Freestyle

Never lost a fight but lost my head a couple times
Should've let 'em fuck me up to knock some sense into my mind
All the women that I've fucked, with no rubber on the bus
If they're ever up the duffs, some are definitely mine
Wait, I'm just kidding, I just writ it, I'm just spittin'
In your girls mouth, got the puss hissing', I love kittens
I was in town with my fun stick on a fuck mission
Then I woke up in my mums crib with my cum dripping

I'm paranoid so get prepared to grab me
Looked in the mirror then punched a cunt for staring at me
I don't bust, I just leave with my nut
'Cause I scream when I fuck, now the [?] they're all scared to track me

Today I woke up I ain't mentally there
Like, I might go and shave the chest off my hair
I know some thoughts that we got ain't meant to be shared
But I'm tired of being quiet and pretending I care

So, most rappers are cunts
'Bout as bad as their mums
Talking burning a pack
Boy I'm packing your lunch
Call me daddy my son
Play the match and you won
Give you a pat on the back
Little slap on the bum
All these gyal on the net
Put your pants on a sec
Sat in a car park, ass out, hands on the deck
Tryna hand from one rich man to the next
Well if you don't have bread bitch, have some respect

Man are pissed about the Brit speech
They know shits peak, bitch please, listen when the king speak
Brothers bummy like some shit cheeks
Sending bitch tweets acting like some pussy that I didn't beat
Imagine we could just say what we thought
I'll say it anyway fuck it play it in court
Since I broke the fucking bank, I ain't breaking the law
But if the police take my drugs, then I'm breaking his jaw

You got tress in the crop let me see what you got
Leave your cheddar looking like Swiss cheese when it's robbed
Fuck your bro, fuck your sis, fuck your team, fuck your squad
And if I catch a man streaming the opps, I hope your drop your phone on your head
When you're alone in bed
I hope you die and wake up, with a hole in a chest
Then head back to the hole where you rose from the dead
Then I'll bury you alive, while you're holding your breath bitch

So, most rappers are cunts
'Bout as bad as their mums
Talking burning a pack
Boy I'm packing your lunch
Call me daddy my son
Play the match and you won
Give you a pat on the back
Little slap on the bum
All these gyal on the net
Put your pants on a sec
Sat in a car park, ass out, hands on the deck
Tryna hand from one rich man to the next
Well if you don't have bread bitch, have some respect

If you don't have bread bitch, have some respect