Social Enema

[Intro] [Verse 1: GDP] My girl don't need to know how much I spend on dope My little brother don't need to know how often I smoke dust Now pass the dutchie like a healthcare reform bill Separate the sheep from the wolves to get the morgues filled I'm in the hood like [?], and ATMs with 10s Umberto's Clam House, and dip out when they bring the check I don't put shellfish on a shelf, selfish Pulverize the pelvis, no helmet, Will Nelson shtick Beat the pussy up, that's what it's made for [?], gently with a chainsaw That's my word, them bitches couldn't see me if they were Google Earth Jay-Z sitting on Suzie Q, until the tuna squirts Spread bald eagle, true, God Bless America The rib-eye with the steak sauce, social enema Pepper on the lettuce, Essex funk legends mention us It's not for everyone, but it's definitely incredible [Interlude] [Verse 2: Pistol] Now I only hit chicks with their kicks on, pick or pose And take a picture it will last longer, kitchen closed Nickel plate, brown powder tickles my nose I'm sick of H, so I only shoot that shit through my toes And I'm really sick of shows but people think I'm just shy I might really catch a cold, but people think I'm just high That's the height of hypocrisy We lie from the world's whitest right-wing democracy You can't even get shot for free With online swine-flu shopping court priorities Who sparking tree in the parks with me? That's my allies Authority, Valley Ghost House, Ballantine 40s Outside of Central Ave. dives, we some foul guys Al-Qaed to airlines, they legalize the street-biz Deliver two large planes, and I don't mean the pizzas Treat this shit, like the first of the month Cap'n crunch rocks, fuck the lookout, we know where the police is Division East is in the house (we incredible) Pistol Pete is in the house (we incredible) GDP is in the house (we incredible) Young Zee is in the house (we incredible) [Verse 3: Young Zee] I get your girl, abracadabra I put half of my shaft in her Stab her, then after I smash I call it cabba (huh) My dude GDP from West Orange Get the best [?] sketch artist, I bet they can't draw us (no!) I'm the man, I got a lot of fans Way out in Rotterdam, they make holograms of how I stand Your man rap, he probably say some shit I said before My metaphors, make me get the four without no credit score (huh yo) I've been spanking kids, from George Washington out to the Ben Franklin Bridge I'll black and kill all of y'all, be selling crack [?], somewhere in Jacksonville, Florida I beat the connect, for forty pounds, sell it all in bounds Be overseas, with a [?] house, with like a quarter ounce (that's all I got left!) Yeah, I'm young and dumb lyrically And it'll take you 21 years to even come fucking near as me, seriously [Outro]