Lyrics Chead - Hyper Crush

Chead

I’m ill I’m ill, I’m-I'm ill I’m ill, dale
I’m ill I’m ill, I’m-I'm ill like Don Chead
What you’ve just said is one of the most insanely idiotic
Things I have ever heard
At no point in your rambling
Incoherent response were you even close to anything
That could be considered a rational thought
Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it
I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul
Chead!
We on that Don Chead
I got my shoes on the wrong feet
Woke up in the party
Everybody looked like a Mark to me
Handful of parsley
Dressed to impress — partially
That’s terrible — Barkley
I like my Perrier sparkly
I’m so unpopulor
In a jumpsuit I rock velour
F*ck I need pockets for
Everybody owes me — I’m a entrepreneur
I ain’t got no scruples
Ego the size of my pupils
Can you pass that chead
Ain’t no limits — Master P
Let’s go!
I’m ill I’m ill, I’m-I'm ill I’m ill, dale
I’m ill I’m ill, I’m-I'm ill like Don Chead
And may God have mercy on your soul
Chead!
I’m ill I’m ill, I’m-I'm ill I’m ill, dale
I’m ill I’m ill, I’m-I'm ill like Don Chead
And may God have mercy on your soul
Chead!