Bitch Please Lyrics - Money Store - Death Grips

who wanna catch dis 

bitch please, you must be smokin rocks 

real shit for my people 

and it just dont 

fucker please you must be smokin rocks 

real shit for my people 

and it just dont 

drop it like ... oh yeah 

thats so trashy 

how low can you go, 

how dirty can you get. nasty fucker 

drug through the dirt 

razor cut that eight milimeter make it hurt 

chain sleaze leather face 

fucker please, you must be smokin rocks 

kill it, kill it, 

kill it, kill it 

hit it, fuck it, feel it, whip it, burn it, turn it out and kick it to da curb 

shut it down 

forged in the flames, said it before and ill say it again... quazar game maximum vacuum rotation spin s-s-s 

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(bitch please) 

when shit goes down 

ill be there 

wit my hand on my gun, and my eyes on the road ghost ridin ta hell fuck if i care... who wanna catch my droze 

give a fuck blood 

i aint goin nowhere 

templar night and day, live an die by the code, code of the street, how ta stay in the zone, how i own it and freak it to da base of da bone 

i am the darkness creeping through your system 

the lash of da whip 

cracking every bitch 

into position 

workin ya over crashing and burning in a blackhole blasting out, your subwoofers are melting. hear a bitch say why's he yelling 

who wanna catch dis gun clap, shrapnel off me lip 

cause blood bath 

(bitch please) 

Photos 

cuz i run this lik 

like dogtown ripped 

that raw shit like none other 

low down dirty shit 

shot off this hip 

death grips, mothafucka 

please, you must be 

smokin rocks 

real shit for my people 

and it just dont