Tekst piosenki
If such a thing exists as being such a king as this Sluts pucker up, to kiss the ring and fist The rhyming vet, the livest yet Drop fly shit like a G-4 private jet Bet you get more than grazed by the nine Layed by the side Oh you out of bullets? Here, take some of mine And clowns hate how I lock this down If they think I'm obnoxious now, wait til I pop Cristal Got one need, to just smoke out But if your weed's got one seed, the shit don't count Dog, you don't want us running home You don't want it Holmes. If you a 'G' You as silent as the one in front of Gnome And you can love me, or you can judge me But dissin me's like, Beetlejuice in a cape, Super Ugly Trust me, I'mma shit on my foes And sit on my throne So hop off my dick and get on your own (hook x's 2) O-H-I-O, no place like home Everywhere I go, I relocate my throne Roll it up. Light it up. Fire it up Bring a bitch to the telly and get high as fuck Schatz got me upchuckin in a cut buzzin Might spit about the same shit, but then again Who the fuck doesn't?!?! When writers fed, bite his lead, or we can fight instead And fuck a can, we open whoop ass by the keg Tell your boys to get your lame crest on Wanna rip together? Y'all can share the same headstone And it's rarely ever that I bury pairs together But I'm ruthless I did it with ease like Jerry Heller So if you mention me You fairies better levitate or jump a fence from me Seven eight's a heavyweight, like pregnancy And you can die in a coupe with dark tint COPY! Shoot the sky til the moon is dark red STOP ME! You could try, but I move at mach 10 WATCH ME! Superfly from the booth like Clark Kent COPY! Doctor Strange when I'm on the ??? The vets I roll with will put your dogs to sleep Puff five blunts straight to the brain Jakki's got one five one through a pump straight to the vein Sights a bit wrecked I ain't even light the spliff yet And already my eyes are bloodshot like a crips set (hook x's 2) Y'all cats ain't never gonna advance, I'm big headed Got an even bigger ego for the one in my pants Lames hurtin I aim perfect for opponent's heads Still in charge like a cordless phone is dead Only writin four bar verses now. REASON?? Can't get past the fifth line without the crowd screamin Y'all don't rhyme, y'all bitch. Dick in mouth even Only time y'all spit's when you spittin out semen Hope you're ready bastards My prose already classic And like laffy taffy I got a joke on every rapper You hold your own? NO YOU DON'T I'll let you shit first, when I start shittin the toilet overflows And I ain't quittin six four, dyin hittin chicks raw In the Hyatt on the fifth floor with her hymen splittin So bet the money you got MY ALBUM'S LIKE HELL! You don't know when it's comin but you know it's gonna be hot (hook x's 2)
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