| Nobody really gives a shit if I’m in this
|
| The proof is in the pudding, fuck it God is my witness
|
| With that said, you ain’t gotta get with this
|
| Go ahead play your part, sit and swallow a dick bitch
|
| These silly suckers rappin' need to be lip-less
|
| The sinners steady cryin' in the bottomless pit with
|
| The D double E V I L, fo' sho'
|
| Spark a flame to the place, and we out. |
| Latch the do'
|
| I’m so ill, roadkill on the asphalt
|
| I blast off, skitzin' off a package of bath salt
|
| My nap caught fire, yeah I’m rappin' my ass off
|
| I’m Bruce Wayne, only when I shit wit' the mask off
|
| The gas cost pennies, there’s plenty to go around
|
| Get revenge with the pen, my PNC blow a pound
|
| Buck em down Rogers, my demons do need handlers
|
| They look the part but they’re much sicker like Pee Lander
|
| Broads scamper when I enter the room
|
| Enter the sandman, the Devil was too in tune
|
| So I changed frequencies and the diggity’s get nothin'
|
| Super-size me, when I eat emcees I’mma glutton
|
| Push buttons like a secretary with clutch pins
|
| All the hatred you feel is necessary is nothin'
|
| Fuck friends, I ain’t compatible with a lot of ya’ll
|
| Me, myself and I, don’t sweat it. |
| No, never, not at all
|
| What does it take to make everyone buy the jam?
|
| Do I do another bump and then tell you how high I am?
|
| I don’t need the priestal service to tell me that I be damned
|
| I could buck em all down and reload with the slight of hand
|
| Right I can. |
| Not coach ya’ll outta the minor leagues
|
| Everybody’s burnin' up tryin' to huddle in my degrees
|
| I’mma need, three feet and a couple of fresh vixens
|
| Two shots of jager, some silence and less bitchin'
|
| Mo' henchmen, the army’s morale is high
|
| Band of brothers trained to shoot on whatever’s caught in the eye
|
| I rely on spewin' the gimmick isn’t the fit
|
| All they wanna hear is bars about bitches and movin' bricks
|
| This is it. |
| Moon walkin' on maggots
|
| You’ll never be fly
|
| Smoke em if you got em, shit even if it’s a re-fry
|
| Be my, guest then I guess I gotta get gully
|
| Lookin' down from here the scenery’s bout to get pretty ugly |