Killer feat Jack Harlow Corda (feat. Jack Harlow, Cordae)

Killer Yeah, it's crazy, I'm a (killer) Made all this money from doin' this D.A. got that dope Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from me That's what I do with money, got money up the ass Call it toilet paper, yeah, flushed with cash Girl, nice butt, is it up for grabs? Just wanna touch your ass, is that too much to ask? Yeah I made it grip, I know it's tough to grasp, get the bag Call it potato chips, I stuff in duffel bags On some public transportation shit, 'cause I will bust your ass Fuck the chain, I'm off the trailer hitch, I got a bunch of swag Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from me Yeah, I'm a (killer) Yeah, I'm a (what?), I'm a (what?), I'm a (killer) Yeah, look, yeah My income is all that and then some Girl, your man is nincompoop, a symptom Of a simp 'cause he'll spend some loot to get some As for me, I'm like Kim Jong-Un, a pimp, son Swag dripping, I'm in a pub Went up to this chick, who was so tipsy, we went to hug Ended up tripping, I picked her up She yelled out it's her birthday She's fifty and in the club Then it comes on (yeah), that "In da Club" song (yeah) She's a buzzsaw (what?), we goin' numbskull (uh) I live on the edge, she's a jump off (yeah) Call her Cinderella (why?), she loves balls (oh) Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from me Yeah, I'm a (killer) Attack like the Ripper All over the track doin' laps like a stripper Now (now), now (now), we'll vow (vow) it out (out) Rap circles around ('round), surround sound (Sound) John Rambo's back and my ammo stacked And I'm cocking raps, I'm on your head Other words, I'm stocking caps and I'm talking facts Like OfficeMax Never down, I'll be up like an insomniac Girl, I got racks you gotta rack How you got all that back and no body fat I'm in awe with that When I stop the Pontiac at the laundry mat that I saw you at You almost had a heart attack when you met Cardiac You ran inside, told your boyfriend like, "I'll be back" But for all you know I probably act like I'm Daniel Wozniak I'm a psycho-chopathic killer I'm a cap peeler, caterpillar With the botanic of bananas you ain't never heard Better vernacular comin' after your scapular For the lack of a better word Dracula 'Cause I'm attackin' a rapper in the phrenic nerve I'm a savage back, put the dagger in the back of competitors Predator and scavenger I am a carnivore and a baller, you're at the dollar store What the fuck you got a wallet for? Y'all are poor I was livin' in squalor but uh-uh, not no more Now I'm the one they holla for Fuckin' shit up like a dinosaur in a China store Bitch, I'm number five (what?), minus four (haha) Now count it, five, ten, yeah, fifteen, twenty Twenty-five, thirty, yeah, get the money Throw it in the furnace, yeah, this shit be funny Earn it just to burn it, swag drippin' from me Yeah, I'm a (killer) Yeah, I'm a (what?), I'm a (what?), I'm a (killer) Yeah