| So this rapper who had dissed me hit me up
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| Said he wants to collab
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| Bro we gotta collab
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| He said, fam we gotta build for the culture bro
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| Let’s get on a track
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| We gotta get on a track
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| Now I could’ve just ignored it but I couldn’t resist
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| I know toilets that are less full of shit
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| He must not know that I heard his cute little raps
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| That were lamer than a white dad doing the dab
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| So I had to hit reply
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| And I typed this out
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| I said I’d rather drink Clorox bleach
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| Or get punched by Conor McGregor
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| Than get on a song with you bro, let’s make it official
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| In the year two thousand and never
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| I would rather drink Clorox bleach
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| About a year later, I saw him outside the Red Sox game
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| Red Sox game
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| I didn’t know who he was, but he walked up
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| And he told me his name
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| I forget your name
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| He said I know we had our differences in the past
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| But you and me on a track, man the people would spaz
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| So maybe this September get together at last
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| I was caught off guard and suppressing a laugh
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| He said, sure I was immature
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| But bro whaddya say?
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| I said I’d rather drink Clorox bleach
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| Or get bombed by North Korea
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| I know god isn’t real 'cause no god would keep you alive
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| And kill 2Pac and Aaliyah
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| I would rather get mauled by a bear
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| Or have somebody spill some AIDS in my hair
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| Than appear on a track with somebody as wack as you
|
| I would rather drink Clorox bleach
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| This goes out to all the dudes who talk shit but don’t pay no dues
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| Can you get a verse from the king of Maine? |
| Bro, nah
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| On SoundCloud with my name in your mouth
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| Here’s a pro tip for you: shut the fuck up right now
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| I would rather bleed, not know how to read
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| Rather run out of weed than collaborate
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| Fuck a fake emcee, I’ll die in a stampede
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| 'Fore I give a sixteen, you can’t hang
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| I play acoustic guitar that’s as hard as your bars
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| When you’re up on stage with the lyrics and the beat
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| Don’t let your hometown make you think you got the crown
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| You’re not world renowned, who’s that? |
| That’s he
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| S to the P, I don’t even gotta spell it
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| Drop another album, I don’t even gotta sell it
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| 'Cause the last one’s sellin' and the wack one’s jealous
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| I heard their new song, it made me want to drink
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| Clorox bleach
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| Or go jump off my roof
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| When your mom told you you were good, she wasn’t telling the truth
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| I said I’d rather get mauled by a bear
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| Or have somebody spill some AIDS in my hair
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| Than appear on a track with somebody as wack as you
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| I would rather drink Clorox (Drink drink drink)
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| Clorox (Bro I would rather drink)
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| Clorox bleh |