Fist of the North Star - Father

I think I’m Fist of the North Star

I like coupes, not sports cars

What’s that smell?

That’s bergamot

I ride around Hell with my shirt off

With a flirt, uh

She got her skirt off

She give me slurp, dawg

She give me slurp, dawg

Know some wild niggas get you merked off

Might fuck around and start a fuckin' turf war

Monkey, my back, oh, Ape Escape

Donkey, her ass, it’s big, it’s fake

I don’t give a fuck, I want that cake

I’ma put it on my plate

She gon' put it on my face

I’m gon' hit them with this 'K

Why can’t niggas just behave?

I’m gon' take it to my grave

Sack on me now, yeah

Racks on me now, yeah

Bought baby mama that brand new Rihanna

Her makeup don’t run when I’m dickin' her down

Bought myself a brand new Ruger

Bought her some titties, some brand new hooters

Niggas be cucks and fuckin' losers

Tryna maneuver how I maneuver (Yeah)

I think I’m Fist of the North Star

I like coupes, not sports cars

What’s that smell?

That’s bergamot

I ride around Hell with my shirt off

With a flirt, uh

She got her skirt off

She give me slurp, dawg

She give me slurp, dawg

Know some wild niggas get you merked off

Might fuck around and start a fuckin' turf war

I am not a role model

Pull out and buss on her Monroe

Pull out dat .38 on Melrose

They screamin', «Ay, Dios mío»

My jeweler tryna ice me out

This floozy tryna ask me out

This pussy bouncer pat me down

Got big boy ounces on me now

She gon' gimme ass and throat

I’ma paint her like Van Gogh

I make a bitch’s life and go

The pussy perfect, pipe her slow

Keep the pack, let’s hit the slopes

Iceman in her nose

Coupe the color common cold

Hunnid band, she hit the pole

I think I’m Fist of the North Star

I like coupes, not sports cars

What’s that smell?

That’s bergamot

I ride around Hell with my shirt off

With a flirt, uh

She got her skirt off

She give me slurp, dawg

She give me slurp, dawg

Know some wild niggas get you merked off

Might fuck around and start a fuckin' turf war