Dude, you'll never guess what I just found out bruh What you find out?
Ayy, guess what I just found out, nobody sleepin' on me People quiet 'cause I'm clickin' buttons like a dictator, North Korea Ballistic flow, bigger than the ocean, yo Can't even use Ukraine to talk to hoes To bolt the flows, to uphold the opponents Hocus Pocus pony show means less corny bro Shit, y'all ain't got no flows I feel like smackin' an Island Boy like an app pocket got on your phone Two crab apple lookin' crackers found a Goodwill microphone Got a Straight Talk card to go viral mumblin' in hot tubs, gay On the interwebs no punnanny at your place And if they are they fake like you with plastic masks on their face I hope a hurricane come back and lift y'all's tiny ass away From where you came so your coral reef face don't take up iTunes space, ayy Ain't no artist worth dissin' anymore Half these motherfuckers make money from bein' off beat and horribore We back and forth hashtaggin' like high school girls Lyrics lookin' skinny, look he's got bulimia bars These celebrities got me not even believin' in stars Their stories sounded like they damaged but I'm seein' no scars Big comical pussies, I'ma call 'em Calvin and Hobbs No radio flyer 'cause I'm flyer than radios y'all I ain't in the same bracket as no copy and paste Too many tools on the track must be signed by Harbor Freight And I got the fuel of eight trains, ate so many rappers I should go chains And I'm the cannibal to the game like critical thinkin' with they brains Hip-Hop DNA is all in my veins, bloodhound sniffin' all 808's Hungry give me all of y'all's plates, tattoo the art of rap on my face In the two-tone, too lit, got two phones So many genres in my vocals I think my skin got two tones My brain a nuke zone, if you thrive then leave me 'lone Diss me then you'll have to pack and rap to find a new home A hurricane spitter no ceilin's like the roof gone Industry fucked up watch 'em make it rain with coupons Man I go so hard I have haters chick an octave off Keep it poppin' car exhaust, colder parkin' lot is frost No DM when I'm slidin' 'cause the ones in there slidin' off Dope sight, vision got dumb sight, Don Frye his jaw Like night-night when you're standin' in the octagon A lot of pussies in the game I've rapped battled two octomoms Fuck a track won't you come get smacked by the autobahn I'll drown 'em in their own flow but it seems the faucet's always off
Up-mother-fuckin'-church Brrtt Woo, wooTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.