verse
But if the whole world was out to get you (what?)
It'd turn you to a powder keg too
Kyle Rittenhouse, spittin' rounds, the TEC shoots like (look out, like, "Brrt")
And that ain't no sound effect (whoo)
Neither was that, SIG Sauer lets loose
I don't condone gun violence at schools (nah)
But I can't get these voices out my head (hey, let's go, one, two)
They're putting words in my mouth like alphabet soup
verse
Got the most content on the continent
And constant compliments give me confidence (I'm a)
A cross of common sense and incompetence (uh)
I'm cognizant that conflicts are consequence (what?)
Of accomplishments accomplished through competition
If Kon coulda conked him into unconsciousness
Though conscious, I conjure this King Kong and
Just call me "Kamikaze," I'm concoctin' this (whoo, my bad)
verse
Nobody's 16's are touching
These mo-' index fingers fu- the nina
Clutchin' the nine millimeter, tuckin' the heat
Got the toaster like an English muffin
No, I mean "Toast to" like you drink to somethin'
But it's in a holster, I proceed to bust and
Fu- around and get po- like Halyna Hutchins
Like I'm Alec Baldwin, what I mean is buckin' you down
verse
Coup de grâce then, right between the fu- eyes
Shoot 'em all then, if you think you're fu- with me
You're gonna suffer the fu- repercussions
The reaper's comin', a heathen, I'm Ethan Crumbley (down, down, down)
I keep replenishing fuel while the beat I'm punishin' (do-do-do-)
chorus
If I run out of fuel, I won't
What the fu- y'all gon' do if I don't
Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down) run out of fuel (do-do-do-)
That scares the fu- out of you