Bottom Bitch (OG Version)

Spoiler alert I came here to titty twist saliva glands So place your bets, save your breath and hissy fit firebrand I can’t entertain these eery rock’n’roll staples Like spendthrift, I spin discs on periodical tables Take the basejump that makes you barf Wheathins Your showreel’s bone meal under the stage lights My everyday’s a coming-o-age cunt’s carpe diem And this is why I treat LA like… She my bottom bitch, cuz you my bottom bitch Its safe to say what you think I’m saying’s a crock of shit Because we fight a lot like this was Gaza Strip But you my bottom bitch watch me make these chocolate chips You my bottom bitch, why you my bottom bitch? Because you think I’m the source of all awesomeness So be my bottom bitch come and be my bottom bitch I look good in print so I keep the desk light always on Here’s a glimpse into the sexlife of automatons My every evening is an M night Shyamalan Lackluster ending where I spend nights at Comiccon I ain’t from here, I’m from some ragtag ferris wheel I blew the horn ‘cuz you were born smack dab in squaresville For a limited time you get to view the purple lotus Plus I give soulseekers that Youtuberculosis Y’all polish wood and just leave a sleek finish But I’ll score Bollywood when my mood piece is finished I don’t acknowledge hoods I eat good and speak Finish With secret sects on Meet the Press yet please the left and tease cynics Teen sex and free clinics is your town’s greatest resource As if falling off’s a motherfucking resource So I entertain the young star baby gaga grudge match which tugs at The lumbar ganglia, so I’m hunchbacked You my bottom botch, LA you my bottom bitch To love me your heart most be bottomless But to me you are precious, I’m on some Gollum shit But you my bottom bitch from top to the bottom bitch You my bottom bitch, yes you are Them other niggas don’t hustle they just cotton pick But me honey, I bathe in lava pits You can not take the budgetary woes so your live band’s on a charter bus Openers get poked with spurs screaming ‘I am Spartacus’ I put a fine comb to the flightplan of you starter-ups They need rides home when I’m in Iceland in armored trucks Rolling up to places on that VIP shit Head’s swivel, I wet my whistle with these ice tea sips You’ll offer me a loaf of bread a cot and a sofa bed Cuz your scene’s dying in need of an IV drip And I’m Chinese medicine, you guys need to headspin When I press buttons Yet nine times out of ten this LA tea party swabs balls So I’m Lee Harvey Oswald with a call time Fall in line yougin’ because I’m posted at the speedtrap I’ve been here so long my nigga that I bleed tree sap You overdressed sleestaks rap with swollen urinary tracks You’re very wack, give me my scene back