I Ain't The Walrus

[Verse 1: Danny!] Nothing left to prove So I'mma hit you with something thats extra smooth And I'mma give you a muffin with extra blue Berries necessary but you can pick them off That euphemism was lost Never take what I say at face value Marinate it, what I say, it may wow you Levitate, dont let negative space around you Feeling good, feeling great, how are you? Feeling good, feeling great, how are you? Still in the hood building eight, tower two Pilates with my gal-pal Spending royalty checks I got from Bow-Wow Ghostrider diseur on a world tour with Zsa Zsa Gabor Think I'll prank call Akon and Lady Gaga some more Nah, nah, you boring them Catch me in Manhattan in the Prada emporium My chick gotta sick shoe game But her hips too thick for the hoop chain Mayne, I put it on the Jenny Craig Diet, hire a private eye from Winnipeg I catch her slipping, then her food's mine Instead of steak, feed her limes, like Gertrude Stein And she'll be back normal in no time [Verse 2: Paris Artelli] Artelli Pass the mic and I'mma running class We ain't running with you niggas, we just running past It's all work, I'm hustling like I'm running fast Ferricelli, past these niggas 'bout to feel my wrath I got a girl on each arm nigga do the math Walk and look booked bitch dig my fashion Don't phone, I'm higher than them lumberjacks So cold, hotter than a summer class Swing, let me hit em with the four-one Tell these grocery-bagging niggas in the store: run Fuck em all, haters see me but they dont speak Fuck em all, cause I'm probably in the boutique Flip two beats, get new sneaks Watch some ?, with a new freak Goddamn, we fucking up the new sheets And my momma proud of me Abstract kid in that modern art gallery Overseas remixes just for the salary Hoping niggas on the phone trying to tell me shit My momma on the other line trying, yelling shit HD frames, closed door steez I'm hungry so I'm killing beasts for this grilled cheese We getting bread, I'm on my stronger shit And I know that you feel this, fuck you talking bout Willis? That Gary Coleman shit, I'm on a roll and shit Taking roll and shit, you should believe in me Got my 120 shades you ain't seeing me Every chick you follow is up tweeting me Holla...