｡•. KING.•｡

@pcidinfull

— Oh hell nah, ain't no pressure 'bout no beef, we gon' air shit out. I got your bitch and she tellin' me all your where about's. Loadin' this K, I can't wait to go and spray one out. Uh-huh, I been hustlin' all day tryna get that cake up out it. All day, all day, I been ridin' it with it all day. It ain got no safe, it ain't got no safe, ayy. Y'all niggas play it safe, we gon' hit your safe, ayy.

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#give me yall wechats

‘‘Can somebody bring me some food? I’m in the studio and I can’t leave until I finish five songs.’‘

#◍ -̗̀- ᴘᴄɪᴅɪɴғᴜʟʟ-̖́- sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ.

‘’Slim waist, Hershey chocolate skin, ass heavy though. On everything, I fucked this bitch delirious, shit Eddie know. Henny taking over, we passed out, at least I did. 15,000 in my balmain's, I'm lackin'..’’ Staring down at his phone as he poetically spit the bars from his new song, Keisha, Timmy shook his head when he realized that something was off. ‘‘Man ion’ know if it’s the fucking beat or what but I just ain’t feeling the shit.’‘ He looked over at his homie Ace then dropped his phone on the table in front of him. ‘‘Nigga we done switched the shit up almost a hunnid times. Ya’ ain’t even finish writing the damn song yet.’‘ Smacking his lips he leaned back in the chair then looked up at the ceiling. ‘‘This shit gotta be right yo. This could be the song to put a nigga on the map.’‘ ‘‘I feel ya’ but still man. Ya’ stressing ya’ self out. Ya’ been in the studio for days. Did you check up on ya’ daughter? Did ya’ was ya’ ass? Brush ya’ teeth?’‘ Timmy squinted his eyes at Ace before sitting back up. ‘‘Nigga don’t worry bout me. I check up on my daughter every day. Ya’ the one that need a damn tick tack dragon breath. Shit burning off my skin.’‘ Joking with the male he picked back up his phone and re-read the verse. ‘‘Run the beat back..’‘