Lyrics Big Bands - Cemetery Drive

Big Bands

Shorty thought she a thot, what’s the standard?
I wish a man would come and front, yeah that’s manhood
You ain’t that good but you call yourself a rapper
Yeah I play the drums but I ain’t a drummer dumbass
Oh was that harsh?
Ain’t speak my language can’t talk
I been that crazy vanguard, routine like Brady pass yards
Routine like 80's dance halls, making your lady branch off
I whip that lazy hands off, ain’t my Mercedes, thank God!
Ay yo move!
Why you standing still, oh you think too cool?
Don’t wanna' get sweaty no one stepping on your shoes
Don’t you know that newer things are meant to be used?
Holes in my kicks, big toes poking through
Bummy ass kid living rich, yeah
Spending more cash than I get, yeah
I don’t see the issue
Cancel my subscription
I need all my problems to be limited edition
My anxiety is holographic
Cool sounds when you scratch it
Self-love is ultra rare
I trade you if you have it
I was living manic I never had card sleeves
Now i live in panic I never let y’all see
My whole life full of bad motifs
I put the blade in my mouth just floss my teeth
Too busy tryna' stay human like I’m Jon Batiste
Or Osterman, got em' sweating like they whole suit fleece
Caught me dancing with myself, feel like Joaquin
I’m jokin' lil momma, I’m just tripping blowing off steam
Feeling like I’m Ozymandias when I’m off screen
The purple so provocative the whole fucking mosh leaning
Right stick hit coming to your breastplate
Cemetery drive motherfucker I’m just dead weight
Yeah, come alive, come alive, put up barricades
Half witted, outside, punk bitches, in Escalades
Ay!
back off the block like a piston
Ay!
fuck up anybody that don’t listen
Ay!
all of my rhinestones glisten
Ay!
dying in the mosh pit is my mission
I told my mother I’m a rock star, I think i shocked her
Double life, man is motherfucking Peter Parker
Pop star, breakin' hearts, boy is such a charmer
Acting like a virgin when your name is not Madonna
These pussies setting traps like they Veigar
Never get surprised boy I see you on the radar
Pull up to bank with some clips and a blazer
Bout' to flip the lid like a Motorola Razr
I’m a big fuck off monster bout' to fucking dynamax
May have lost my little mind but that was just a minor lapse
Fuck a crowd surf, jump off stage and hit them with a down attack
Electric type, paralysis, man we got them spinal taps
Fuck you and your momma’s house
This the type of shit they play that make you kick your momma out
Pussy boys ain’t spitting heat, fuck you talking bout'
Unless you talkin' bout how they leaving the pussies cotton-mouthed
Got em' like I don’t need it
Your whole square a bunch of hoes like a shotgun seen it
Pop trunk, y’all suck, fuck all ya’ll pissants
My shit is gas city while y’all sussied in the mid-lands
Ay, big bands, big bands, big bands
Wonderin' how the fuck in seven days I made six grand
Shit man this shit’s payin' cos' this young sir’s head got bars like a hitman
Ay!
back off the block like a piston
Ay!
fuck up anybody that don’t listen
Ay!
all of my rhinestones glisten
Ay!
dying in the mosh pit is my mission
Really been ‘bout, that rhythm I ride, my cynical mind
Been filling up all of my time, yeah I was born the wrong year
I see sociopathy, cocky but you like a poppy seed
A spec insignificant, so check what you gifted with
And check what you not I’m not impressed by your wit with this
So, sit and listen closely mostly posted killin' shit
Ill intent, tense muscles, caught up in the hustle bustle
What’s the cause and what’s the fuss?
I trust that I can piece the puzzle