Salute (The Motto Remix)

[Verse 1: Keatsa] Fitchburg, we the city, keep hating little bitches At the top, like a latter, it's the climb, getting lifted I'm at your neck like a knife, call that shit ballistic Coughing like a kid with the flu, call that shit a piff hit I be feeling right though, purple and a Sprite, bro It's the hangover, but bitch, I'm on my flight mode Just bought some 2012 Nikes, these the promos I'm coming at your head, pussy bitch, no homo You made a few hundred? LOL, I blow those Burg, paint the city red, Rojo Spanish, long bitch, fat ass like an animal And she ride hard, eating dick like a cannibal Eat me up, oww, then she turned into Hannibal Yeah, this is amazing I'm hoping to blow up and be a brand new sensation You dudes listening to shock, amazement I turn it quick to silence, just like the fucking pavement But, haters, I ain't stressing, you just make me push harder Don't call me Lamar, cause Odom ain't a fucking starter And I look like Kobe Bryant when I fucking go off Turn a jersey into 24 when I go off Yeah, I'm scooping balls like a motherfucking short stop [Interlude: Keatsa & Fisher Kay] Keatsa: Yo, man, we're gonna be famous some day Fisher Kay: Hell yeah, we're gonna have like mad bitches and shit Keatsa: Hell yeah, man. Can't wait for that Fisher Kay: Gonna be in like fucking magazines and all that shit Keatsa: Yo, but how about you do me a favor? Fisher Kay: What? Keatsa: Go in Fisher Kay: Alright, I got you [Verse 2: Fisher Kay] Yo, yo, oh look it's the Fisher Kid, that sick little shit He flows hot like gonorrhea piss And when people say, "He can spit." You best agree with it Hey, agree with this (Keatsa) Agree with what? That my tracks make your ears' nut bust And your jaws drop Uh, it's Fisher, Mr. Pick of the Litter A winner, in and out of the booth A kidder missing some screws Don't you get the fucking picture, dude? I'm in that lyrical vicious mood It's time to spice up this mic session I just picked up a dog from Michael Vick's last court session Last name, Soldier First name, Hessian Always lived reckless And wore a spiked neckless Did I mention he was headless? Ha, I bring mics to gun fights And flow hotter than kissing lesbians in a mud fight Bitch, I'm flyer than a kite Rascals, Rascals, rascally We bad like tragic, tragic, tragedies We so bad that we the butterflies And we sting yellow jacket black and yellow bees My flow seems magic, but it's real actually You see, I have a habit of smashing these records And beating my competitors And when I say I shit on you It ain't just a metaphor [Outro: Fisher Kay & Keatsa] Fisher Kay: Fuck, bitch, fuck, haha, oh, my God Fisher Kay: Shit, we like, fucking killed that, like Keatsa: Murder, murder Fisher Kay: fucking like overkill Keatsa: R.I.P Fisher Kay: On some like, fucking new shit Keatsa: Hahaha Fisher Kay: Fucking bad bitches Keatsa: Keatsa! Fisher Kay: Fisher Kay, fucking bad ass bitch with a fat butt, fuck with me (laughing) Keatsa: Yeah! Fisher Kay: Yeah, guys (laughing) Keatsa: Whoo!