Curse – Bass Santana (feat. XXXTENTACION, Coolie Cut & Kin$oul)

[XXXTENTACION:]
Ey, check my resumé
(T-t-to Bass be the glory)
My dick go hard, eight (whoa, whoa)
True facts
Ay-ay

Check my clock
I can’t stop (ay)
Fuck around
Make my .40 pop (ay)
No Popcaan
I pop pistols (no)
Revenge my body
Clothing no issue (oh)
Bitch you look sick
You need a tissue
You drop a body
I just might bless you (ay)
I’m metro-sexual
No high cholesterol (whoa)
Where Jenny Craig? (whoa)
Bitch, let’s get sexual (whoa)

[Bass Santana:]
Why the fuck I’d ever lie?
Pussy nigga, bet that pistol part of your disguise (yeah)
I can see it in your eyes
Runnin’ from the reaper, fuck I’m not afraid to die
Bitches creepin’ on my line
Got my main upset, these hoes I fucked and left behind
Need at least two at a time
Moved to foreign, took it over, lost my fuckin’ mind
Instigatin’s why I don’t trust these bitches
Two-faced and lame-ass nigga
Gangbang for fame, fake hitta
I ain’t never seen squad witchya
I don’t need a savior, fuck the faith
Copped myself a ounce and worked away
Seen the Babylon around the way
Who the fuck they catchin’? Not today

Ridin’ round with sinners, (yeah) mmh
Flyin’ on a Nimbus (yeah)
Spot a nigga slippin’, hold on
Roll down the window, (ah) yuh
Low-key schemin’, (yeah) mmh
Leave his momma screamin’, (yeah) yuh
Curse these demons, Lord
Curse these demons (ah)

[Coolie Cut:]
Chase ’em with the fuckin’ tec
Hit ’em where it hurt
Nigga, make it work
I’ma make it squirt
Nigga, I do dirt
Nigga, I’ma merc
Put ’em in the earth
Pay me for the verse
Put ’em in a hearse
Gotta finish first
I just did my first
Protect me from my curse
Ay, yuh, bitch!

[Kin$oul:]
Bitch, I put in work
Spittin’ with a curse
Wouldn’t be the first
How much is you worth?
Sell you tour merch
I just wanna fuck
I don’t wanna flirt
Why your feelings hurt?
Cha-cha slide, all in that pussy
How you doin’ love? Let’s go make a movie
Body lookin’ good when you dressed in Gucci
Love the chicken breast, bitin’ on your booty

[Bass Santana:]
Ridin’ round with sinners, mmh
Flyin’ on a Nimbus
Spot a nigga slippin’, hold on
Roll down the window, yuh
Low-key schemin’, mmh
Leave his momma screamin’, yuh
Curse these demons, Lord
Curse these demons
Lit