[{"id":26877469,"name":"RAGE QUIT","trackName":"RAGE QUIT","artistName":"KXLLSWXTCH","albumName":"EYESORE","duration":160.1,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nWhat's your rank, kid?\nBitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\nIt's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\nSend your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\nYour pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\nI'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\nY'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\nPut some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\nYou ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\nSoon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\nYour bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\nGot a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n\nI'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\nTrim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\nBetter keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\nThat MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n\nThey ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\nI did it, I just did it (I just did it)\nMake her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\nI was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\nI get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n\nDon't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\nCut ties if you lie to me\nFrom the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\nCouple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\nYou sound like a ho look\nWhole time I was down here with no none\nNow I got seven figures in the bank\nDouble R with a range\nNow you come to my show look\n\nWho to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\nWho ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\nDid this on my own, I don't care about the fame\nAnd I don't need no hand to hold\nI hope that pistol let it bang\n\nWho to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\nWho ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\nDid this on my own, I don't care about the fame\nAnd I don't need no hand to hold\nI hope that pistol let it bang\n\nWhat's your rank, kid?\nBitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\nIt's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\nSend your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\nYour pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\nI'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\nY'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\nPut some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\nYou ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\nSoon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\nYour bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\nGot a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)","syncedLyrics":"[00:07.58] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n[00:12.27] What's your rank, kid?\n[00:14.07] Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n[00:18.28] It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n[00:21.33] Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n[00:24.61] Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n[00:27.64] I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n[00:30.90] Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n[00:34.03] Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n[00:37.33] You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n[00:40.44] Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n[00:44.44] Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n[00:47.42] Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n[00:51.17] I'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\n[00:53.38] Trim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\n[00:56.46] Better keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\n[00:59.39] That MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n[01:04.07] They ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\n[01:05.66] I did it, I just did it (I just did it)\n[01:07.28] Make her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\n[01:10.14] I was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\n[01:13.32] I get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n[01:16.72] Don't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\n[01:18.68] Cut ties if you lie to me\n[01:19.87] From the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\n[01:21.94] Couple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\n[01:24.07] You sound like a ho look\n[01:25.06] Whole time I was down here with no none\n[01:26.65] Now I got seven figures in the bank\n[01:28.10] Double R with a range\n[01:29.26] Now you come to my show look\n[01:30.11] Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n[01:33.37] Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n[01:36.33] Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n[01:38.79] And I don't need no hand to hold\n[01:40.41] I hope that pistol let it bang\n[01:42.44] Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n[01:46.12] Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n[01:49.11] Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n[01:51.86] And I don't need no hand to hold\n[01:53.27] I hope that pistol let it bang\n[01:55.06] What's your rank, kid?\n[01:56.21] Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n[01:59.67] It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n[02:02.83] Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n[02:05.99] Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n[02:09.03] I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n[02:12.22] Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n[02:15.47] Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n[02:18.79] You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n[02:21.81] Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n[02:26.71] Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n[02:29.82] Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)\n[02:33.42] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: RAGE QUIT\n  artist: KXLLSWXTCH\n  album: EYESORE\n  duration_ms: 160100\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 7580\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: What's your rank, kid?\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 14070\n- text: Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  start_ms: 14070\n  end_ms: 18280\n- text: It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  start_ms: 18280\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24610\n- text: Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n  start_ms: 24610\n  end_ms: 27640\n- text: I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  start_ms: 27640\n  end_ms: 30900\n- text: Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  start_ms: 30900\n  end_ms: 34030\n- text: Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  start_ms: 34030\n  end_ms: 37330\n- text: You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  start_ms: 37330\n  end_ms: 40440\n- text: Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  start_ms: 40440\n  end_ms: 44440\n- text: Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  start_ms: 44440\n  end_ms: 47420\n- text: Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n  start_ms: 47420\n  end_ms: 51170\n- text: I'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\n  start_ms: 51170\n  end_ms: 53380\n- text: Trim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\n  start_ms: 53380\n  end_ms: 56460\n- text: Better keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\n  start_ms: 56460\n  end_ms: 59390\n- text: That MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n  start_ms: 59390\n  end_ms: 64070\n- text: They ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\n  start_ms: 64070\n  end_ms: 65660\n- text: I did it, I just did it (I just did it)\n  start_ms: 65660\n  end_ms: 67280\n- text: Make her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\n  start_ms: 67280\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: I was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 73320\n- text: I get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n  start_ms: 73320\n  end_ms: 76720\n- text: Don't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\n  start_ms: 76720\n  end_ms: 78680\n- text: Cut ties if you lie to me\n  start_ms: 78680\n  end_ms: 79870\n- text: From the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\n  start_ms: 79870\n  end_ms: 81940\n- text: Couple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\n  start_ms: 81940\n  end_ms: 84070\n- text: You sound like a ho look\n  start_ms: 84070\n  end_ms: 85060\n- text: Whole time I was down here with no none\n  start_ms: 85060\n  end_ms: 86650\n- text: Now I got seven figures in the bank\n  start_ms: 86650\n  end_ms: 88100\n- text: Double R with a range\n  start_ms: 88100\n  end_ms: 89260\n- text: Now you come to my show look\n  start_ms: 89260\n  end_ms: 90110\n- text: Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  start_ms: 90110\n  end_ms: 93370\n- text: Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  start_ms: 93370\n  end_ms: 96330\n- text: Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  start_ms: 96330\n  end_ms: 98790\n- text: And I don't need no hand to hold\n  start_ms: 98790\n  end_ms: 100410\n- text: I hope that pistol let it bang\n  start_ms: 100410\n  end_ms: 102440\n- text: Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  start_ms: 102440\n  end_ms: 106120\n- text: Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  start_ms: 106120\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 111860\n- text: And I don't need no hand to hold\n  start_ms: 111860\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: I hope that pistol let it bang\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 115060\n- text: What's your rank, kid?\n  start_ms: 115060\n  end_ms: 116210\n- text: Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  start_ms: 116210\n  end_ms: 119670\n- text: It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  start_ms: 119670\n  end_ms: 122830\n- text: Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  start_ms: 122830\n  end_ms: 125990\n- text: Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n  start_ms: 125990\n  end_ms: 129030\n- text: I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  start_ms: 129030\n  end_ms: 132220\n- text: Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  start_ms: 132220\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141810\n- text: Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  start_ms: 141810\n  end_ms: 146710\n- text: Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  start_ms: 146710\n  end_ms: 149820\n- text: Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)\n  start_ms: 149820\n  end_ms: 153420\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 153420\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\n  What's your rank, kid?\n  Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\n  I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n\n  I'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\n  Trim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\n  Better keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\n  That MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n\n  They ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\n  I did it, I just did it (I just did it)\n  Make her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\n  I was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\n  I get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n\n  Don't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\n  Cut ties if you lie to me\n  From the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\n  Couple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\n  You sound like a ho look\n  Whole time I was down here with no none\n  Now I got seven figures in the bank\n  Double R with a range\n  Now you come to my show look\n\n  Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  And I don't need no hand to hold\n  I hope that pistol let it bang\n\n  Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  And I don't need no hand to hold\n  I hope that pistol let it bang\n\n  What's your rank, kid?\n  Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\n  I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)\n"},{"id":31236740,"name":"RAGE QUIT","trackName":"RAGE QUIT","artistName":"KXLLSWXTCH, 1nonly","albumName":"EYESORE","duration":160.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nWhat's your rank, kid?\nBitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\nIt's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\nSend your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\nYour pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\nI'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\nY'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\nPut some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\nYou ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\nSoon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\nYour bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\nGot a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n\nI'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\nTrim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\nBetter keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\nThat MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n\nThey ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\nI did it, I just did it (I just did it)\nMake her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\nI was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\nI get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n\nDon't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\nCut ties if you lie to me\nFrom the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\nCouple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\nYou sound like a ho look\nWhole time I was down here with no none\nNow I got seven figures in the bank\nDouble R with a range\nNow you come to my show look\n\nWho to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\nWho ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\nDid this on my own, I don't care about the fame\nAnd I don't need no hand to hold\nI hope that pistol let it bang\n\nWho to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\nWho ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\nDid this on my own, I don't care about the fame\nAnd I don't need no hand to hold\nI hope that pistol let it bang\n\nWhat's your rank, kid?\nBitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\nIt's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\nSend your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\nYour pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\nI'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\nY'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\nPut some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\nYou ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\nSoon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\nYour bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\nGot a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)","syncedLyrics":"[00:07.58] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n[00:12.27] What's your rank, kid?\n[00:14.07] Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n[00:18.28] It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n[00:21.33] Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n[00:24.61] Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n[00:27.64] I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n[00:30.90] Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n[00:34.03] Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n[00:37.33] You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n[00:40.44] Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n[00:44.44] Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n[00:47.42] Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n[00:51.17] I'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\n[00:53.38] Trim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\n[00:56.46] Better keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\n[00:59.39] That MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n[01:04.07] They ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\n[01:05.66] I did it, I just did it (I just did it)\n[01:07.28] Make her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\n[01:10.14] I was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\n[01:13.32] I get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n[01:16.72] Don't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\n[01:18.68] Cut ties if you lie to me\n[01:19.87] From the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\n[01:21.94] Couple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\n[01:24.07] You sound like a ho look\n[01:25.06] Whole time I was down here with no none\n[01:26.65] Now I got seven figures in the bank\n[01:28.10] Double R with a range\n[01:29.26] Now you come to my show look\n[01:30.11] Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n[01:33.37] Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n[01:36.33] Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n[01:38.79] And I don't need no hand to hold\n[01:40.41] I hope that pistol let it bang\n[01:42.44] Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n[01:46.12] Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n[01:49.11] Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n[01:51.86] And I don't need no hand to hold\n[01:53.27] I hope that pistol let it bang\n[01:55.06] What's your rank, kid?\n[01:56.21] Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n[01:59.67] It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n[02:02.83] Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n[02:05.99] Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n[02:09.03] I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n[02:12.22] Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n[02:15.47] Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n[02:18.79] You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n[02:21.81] Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n[02:26.71] Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n[02:29.82] Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)\n[02:33.42] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: RAGE QUIT\n  artist: KXLLSWXTCH, 1nonly\n  album: EYESORE\n  duration_ms: 160000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 7580\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: What's your rank, kid?\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 14070\n- text: Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  start_ms: 14070\n  end_ms: 18280\n- text: It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  start_ms: 18280\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24610\n- text: Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n  start_ms: 24610\n  end_ms: 27640\n- text: I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  start_ms: 27640\n  end_ms: 30900\n- text: Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  start_ms: 30900\n  end_ms: 34030\n- text: Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  start_ms: 34030\n  end_ms: 37330\n- text: You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  start_ms: 37330\n  end_ms: 40440\n- text: Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  start_ms: 40440\n  end_ms: 44440\n- text: Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  start_ms: 44440\n  end_ms: 47420\n- text: Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n  start_ms: 47420\n  end_ms: 51170\n- text: I'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\n  start_ms: 51170\n  end_ms: 53380\n- text: Trim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\n  start_ms: 53380\n  end_ms: 56460\n- text: Better keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\n  start_ms: 56460\n  end_ms: 59390\n- text: That MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n  start_ms: 59390\n  end_ms: 64070\n- text: They ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\n  start_ms: 64070\n  end_ms: 65660\n- text: I did it, I just did it (I just did it)\n  start_ms: 65660\n  end_ms: 67280\n- text: Make her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\n  start_ms: 67280\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: I was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 73320\n- text: I get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n  start_ms: 73320\n  end_ms: 76720\n- text: Don't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\n  start_ms: 76720\n  end_ms: 78680\n- text: Cut ties if you lie to me\n  start_ms: 78680\n  end_ms: 79870\n- text: From the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\n  start_ms: 79870\n  end_ms: 81940\n- text: Couple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\n  start_ms: 81940\n  end_ms: 84070\n- text: You sound like a ho look\n  start_ms: 84070\n  end_ms: 85060\n- text: Whole time I was down here with no none\n  start_ms: 85060\n  end_ms: 86650\n- text: Now I got seven figures in the bank\n  start_ms: 86650\n  end_ms: 88100\n- text: Double R with a range\n  start_ms: 88100\n  end_ms: 89260\n- text: Now you come to my show look\n  start_ms: 89260\n  end_ms: 90110\n- text: Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  start_ms: 90110\n  end_ms: 93370\n- text: Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  start_ms: 93370\n  end_ms: 96330\n- text: Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  start_ms: 96330\n  end_ms: 98790\n- text: And I don't need no hand to hold\n  start_ms: 98790\n  end_ms: 100410\n- text: I hope that pistol let it bang\n  start_ms: 100410\n  end_ms: 102440\n- text: Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  start_ms: 102440\n  end_ms: 106120\n- text: Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  start_ms: 106120\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 111860\n- text: And I don't need no hand to hold\n  start_ms: 111860\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: I hope that pistol let it bang\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 115060\n- text: What's your rank, kid?\n  start_ms: 115060\n  end_ms: 116210\n- text: Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  start_ms: 116210\n  end_ms: 119670\n- text: It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  start_ms: 119670\n  end_ms: 122830\n- text: Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  start_ms: 122830\n  end_ms: 125990\n- text: Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n  start_ms: 125990\n  end_ms: 129030\n- text: I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  start_ms: 129030\n  end_ms: 132220\n- text: Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  start_ms: 132220\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141810\n- text: Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  start_ms: 141810\n  end_ms: 146710\n- text: Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  start_ms: 146710\n  end_ms: 149820\n- text: Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)\n  start_ms: 149820\n  end_ms: 153420\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 153420\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\n  What's your rank, kid?\n  Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\n  I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk\n\n  I'm back in my mood, too grumpy like Scrooge\n  Trim some off top peel his head back smooth, attitude on rude\n  Better keep that stick tucked 'n' I advise you don't disobey\n  That MK4 slide side to side as I hit the break, while a bitch complain (yeah)\n\n  They ask me how the fuck you make it, bitch?\n  I did it, I just did it (I just did it)\n  Make her rage-quit, pistol hitting in his liver\n  I was 17 with cribs and whips and no I did not win it\n  I get high as fuck, you see me fly as fuck, you cannot be me\n\n  Don't slide with me, I got a .45 line with me\n  Cut ties if you lie to me\n  From the 702, cop a LV, up a LV\n  Couple thousand every time I leave and don't talk\n  You sound like a ho look\n  Whole time I was down here with no none\n  Now I got seven figures in the bank\n  Double R with a range\n  Now you come to my show look\n\n  Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  And I don't need no hand to hold\n  I hope that pistol let it bang\n\n  Who to think, who to call, who to blame? Uh\n  Who ain't come around once, who the fake? Uh\n  Did this on my own, I don't care about the fame\n  And I don't need no hand to hold\n  I hope that pistol let it bang\n\n  What's your rank, kid?\n  Bitch, I let them pistols talk come and speak my language\n  It's too crowded up in this bitch, no Russian, the banquet\n  Send your soul right back to the lobby, I make him rage-quit\n  Your pockets too weightless, life been getting too plain, son\n\n  I'm thinking 'bout bringing your bitch to my crib hip thrusting her face, tongue and all\n  Y'all talk, but can't hurt a damn fly you cowards ain't dangerous\n  Put some hair on your chest, if you feeling upset, pussy boy, come say some\n  You ain't safe as you guessed boy that bulletproof vest still a get your brain bust\n  Soon as I wake up, I grab my strap load up two mags and count my cake up\n  Your bitches face stuffed, right in my domain punk\n  Got a problem, I break my goddamn fist right across your face punk (yeah)\n"}]