Uh, smoking grass at the vintage food courtīroken glass, waiting on you on the swimming pool floor
IVISIBLE SHINE CHILLIN DASH CRACK
Wood rollercoasters, crack sold on plastic scooter cars Uh, on our way to that black amusement park When him and mama got along on the Bob-Lo boat Pop told stories ’bout it that would last for hours-long My granddaddy mistress caught the business from my granny fist Aw, man, I wish I was joining you-a little cheese and crackers, a little Cana wine, a little Riunite on ice, some Harvey’s Bristol Cream-but let’s do this, only on Smooth FM.Īll this hand-me-down-shit I had had an uncanny fitĪll the gangstas I had in my family had me anti-bitch It is the perfect weather and the perfect time to enjoy a few snacks. Just jealous of everybody that’s headed out on that Bob-Lo boat. "Cruising down the river dancing till your feet got numb cool summer breezes blowing through your hair as you stood gazing down the river in anticipation of the thrill of the dizzying rides at the amusement park-ah, memories of Bob-Lo Island."Īll is your world ain’t nothing but a squirrel tryna get a nut. Then I'm cuttin' you from your mother's womb 'Cause these bars always got my stools in 'emīitch, shit is real like I pooped Jerusalem On the john like a prostitute when I'm droppin' a deuceĪnd when I'm producing them lyrical bowel movements 'Cause that's all I dos with 'em, poop is my pseudonym Number one, but my pencils are number twos The boom bap is coming back with an axe to mumble rap You jack-offs need to come to grips like a hand job In fact you're exact opposites, you make a wack songĪnd can't hold a candle but even Daniel-san whacks off Stampin' out grasshoppers, you can't be no Rap Gods The rap is a vag' and I'm goin' in like a tampon in this bitch Smash it and stand on it, dammit, I can't stop it Sasquatch dancing on top of an ant trample it and stomp it My dad is your grandfather, I'll have to re-hatch on youĬome back as a black wasp, half yellow jacket, you can't swat a It's sad because dad taught you to rap as a damn toddler Say what I think when I rhyme, in ink-pen I talkĪ singular thought I think of will help you distinguish apartĭamn dawg, is that copyin' or payin' homage? Slaughterhouse in the building, middle fingers aloft 'Till the shingles come off the roof we'll shout at the ceiling Set the sprinklers off like Jada Pinkett and Queen Latifah So ring the alarm, pull the extinguishers off of the wall I see that thing I'ma squash it and rip the wings of it off You can't be butterflies, my offsprings are just moths Pad to pen I’m batty like eyelids when they're blinkin' a lot Like Anderson Silva back when he snapped his shin in halfĪnd then had the shit hangin' by a flap of skinĪfter he tried to plant the shit back on the mat again You're havin' a little trouble fathomin' this is actually happenin' You're looking at Attila, the psychopathic killer, the caterpillarĭon't tell me when I'm supposed to rap untilĮspecially when your favorite rapper ain't even half as illĪ savage still, the track's a banana peel, attack of the silverback gorilla It's nothing I can say to you that is realerĭon't you ever disrespect the fuckin' caterpillar I do what I wanna do, they do what I let them doĮverything these niggas be sayin' is a fuckin' lie It's completely normal to hold on to a regret or two Gas you up and tell you somethin' you never knewĪlways stay professional, you always gon' make revenueĭon't let people next to you that don't want the best for you Never let someone who's not as smart as you That I feel like we're friends, so now we no longer competitors Guess what I'ma never do? Show so much respect to you When it's all done then your number gon' switch Number one song, get your number one chick Ring the alarm, the caterpillar is firing I bring Attica to these patterns, and here's my battle cry These rappers only won their matches because they strategize I hate congratulating these has-beens who had their highs Your favorite rapper come at me, I just decapitate him My pen is like Big Ben, this shit's just a classic waiting Y'all my children, y'all bit my shit and contracted rabiesĭon't you grade me next to these rappers, baby, that's degrading Uhh, all you niggas my little rapper babies I'm tryna be number one in my son and daughter life You number one when it come to slaughtering mics You a drip from my penis, I eat lions and sip hyenas See there's a difference between us, what I spit hit arenas If I didn't do this, where in the fuck would you be at? Ohh, we in the war, where butterflies keep dyin' (ahh) Ring the alarm, the caterpillar keeps firing Now everybody sayin' that they number one
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip out for beer during commercialsīecause the revolution will not be televised
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out You will not be able to stay home, brotha
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