| It’s Mr. High, yeah it’s me again, so sad, I need a friend
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| Thought y’all could sedate, your mistake was putting the needle in
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| Y’all broke skin, now all the demons, they keep on creeping in
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| Your mouth is full of shit, I might hit the lip when I piss in it
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| I took a pic and post it on my Twitter like, «What's happening?»
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| I hope that I can get a couple likes and find a badder bitch
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| With nice tits, a nice ass, some nice lips, a nice rack
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| She said, «You're cumming too quick,» I said, «Bitch, you define fast»
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| I look up at the clock, how much time passed? |
| One minute
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| Oh yeah, you know a minute, was straight drilling that fine ass
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| She said, «I think you’re lying. |
| I’m tired and where’s the wine at?
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| And where is all the weed? |
| I’m in need of something to climax»
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| I said, «Okay, uh, well, let me see what I got»
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| I start to search around my house, I found my ex-girl's top
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| I went from soft to jacking off, now I’m in need of a mop
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| And I hear her yelling from my room, «Mark, I said I want pot»
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| Destined to flop, 'cause look at all the bullshit on top
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| My only chance at success is if Kanye tells me to stop
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| While I’m at the Grammy’s and they hand me the award for best pop
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| And I think I’m joining One Direction now that Malik is lost
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| Need a moment to pause, I want to say, «Hi, Miss Swift
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| If you ever gave me the chance, then I could show you my dick
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| I could send you a pic, I don’t care if Harry doesn’t like Witt»
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| Like B and J, Witt and Tay, we could take over this shit
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| Huh? |
| We could take over this shit
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| Me and you, we could take over this shit
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| But for real though
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| Yo, so why’d you send your daughter to college here in the first place?
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| You pay 20k and your daughter became a sperm bank
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| Was fucking five guys on the first day
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| She learned how to suck a dick
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| And still hasn’t experienced her first A, damn, she’s looking up from her knees
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| She knows about whiskey neat, double D’s and the trees
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| She’s getting high because the last guy, he left her with ease
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| Asking him, «Please don’t leave, you said you loved me»
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| On Tinder swiping right like which bitch gon' fuck me?
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| You know that I’m the man, five grams of protein and some money
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| And girls are saying they love me and guys are wishing they was me
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| I’m offering nothing more than a washborn on my tummy
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| It’s funny, I might go name my next album «Tha Carter VII»
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| And sell a bunch of copies outside a 7-Eleven
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| And make it sound like shit so that no one can comprehend it
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| Baby, must’ve fucked your ears and then career, 'cause you ain’t selling
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| I’m not dissing who you think I’m dissing, it’s someone different
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| I tried to be nice and then no one listened, so I’m pissed
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| And if I hear another bitch try to tell me how she is different
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| Like, «I never get around,» but her pussy, I fit my fist in
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| Insisting that I’m so jealous, I’m jealous of who?
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| Your screws are loose for you to think I’m jealous of you
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| You’re lame and never made anything but balls turn blue
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| Telling the truth and when offended, then I’m talking 'bout you
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| And I’m talking 'bout you, stupid ass bitch
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| Fuck you, you, you and you
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| Oh, I must be over privileged 'cause I comb my hair
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| While I’m looking through Walmart, Target and Kohl’s for some clothes to wear
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| You stupid fuck, I got a hairy pair
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| Just for you to suck and if I bust, I might just bust in your hair
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| Because I aim high, we are not the same guy
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| You are just a lame with no brain and a day job
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| My dad, he got laid off, too drunk off the Jäger
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| And still drove me all around the town, wow, thanks Pa
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| You could have fuckin' killed me, I could have been dead
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| Your only purpose on this earth was your sperm and now look what you did
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| You created the greatest rapper to live
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| And when I’m standing at the Grammy’s, hi Granny, bitch, you ain’t worth shit
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| Look at me win, I had a friend and he’s irrelevant now
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| Come to find out, found his tongue in my ex-girl's mouth
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| Karma is a bitch, the last I heard is you was surfing the couch
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| The day you go out is the day that I feel bad for the ground
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| You’re stealing my sound, you’re wack and I don’t want to collab
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| Look at your past, I’m counting every rapper line that you jacked
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| You sound like me if I could suck on my sack
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| Like, «Witt, drop shit so I can copy it and say I can rap»
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| I’ve come to attack you bottom-feeder fucks, I’ma blast
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| Stealing your art and then your lyrics, you’re not real, you’re an act
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| Not tweeting you back, you’re honestly the parrot of rap
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| You’re making me laugh, I’m everything the rap-game lacks
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| In fact, go ahead, compare me to the greatest again
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| They said that Em sounds like Nas and Hop sounds like Em
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| And I sound like Hop, so where do we end?
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| Stop comparing me, compare what you can’t comprehend
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| Can’t wrap your head around the fact that I’m just nice with a pen
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| I’m standing up and talking shit, I’m never one to pretend
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| Never one that would blend, I’m not Eminem and I’m not Lennon
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| I’ma lead a generation and pick it up where they left it, it’s Witt |