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作词 : Joel Zimmerman/Adam Steven Rooney |
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作曲 : Joel Zimmerman/Adam Steven Rooney |
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Somebody fill my cup while I keep this reefer burnin', |
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Come fxxk my mood up, I hope you do need to speak on somethin', |
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You can sleep on me but your deathbed is the sheets and covers, |
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I mean if you beef then the repercussion's the reaper's caution, |
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Fxxk 'em, tell your favorites I'm a league above 'em, |
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I put that on every piece of shit that my b***h bust in, |
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Lord, I think I can hear them demons call me, |
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Christ, they're trynaa cross me like the Jesus somethin', |
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That's a super bad look, rappers seem to be McLovin, |
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Sayin' Horroh's weak and then ask for a ****ing feature from him, |
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I fxxk your b1tch when I see your woman, |
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If she doesn't know me, I'll tell her I'm Justin Bieber's cousin, |
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Are you not perhaps afraid of what might happen? |
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They could never call me ordinary, |
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What? Fxxk 'em, with one foot in the mortuary, |
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They said that hip-hop's dead, I hit them all to get it, |
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Put it on my back and I don't even think the corpse is heavy, |
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Tell them stupid cartoon rappers Tutankhamun's back, |
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I'm 2Pac with his juice back, |
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A zoot wrap, two straps, a Hail Mary two track, |
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B1tch, I'll kill us all if you don't move back, |
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Kamikaze, I find it hard giving half a shit, |
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Narcissist, I guarantee I've got a larger d**k, |
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This fxxking groupie tried to send me to the bar for drinks, |
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I told that thirsty b1tch, "Here's a yard of piss you could hardly lift", |
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Bob Marley spliff will put me where the martians live, |
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I use a couple bloodclaat yaadis as my pharmacist, |
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What might happen? |
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B1tches like kick flips (Yay), all up on my gnarly tricks, |
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And they just wanna blow me like some broken Sega cartridges, |
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I led my hyenas to the deers blood, |
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Not a strong enough for bringing me a werewolf, |
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I've got a big old gang to get it cleared up, |
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Trip and lead your sisters to leaking liquid from tear ducts, |
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Keep on giving that weird look, you'll get hit with this beer cup, |
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Bully b***h stomp her head, if you're full of shit , you appear tough, |
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You're nothing here to our motherfxxkers in here, |
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Don't suck a d**k, you come near, you'll get fxxkin' kicked in your beer gut, |
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Victims in fear when I put a couple whispers in ears, |
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Man, enough fxxkin' kittens in here, tell them b***h whiskers get sheared up, |
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Mother, cousins, and peers but they not heard from you for years, |
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'Cause we get cut and chopped, then we clear up, |
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Bloods, innards, and smeared guts, |
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Sufferin' succotash, |
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Took an upper-class slut mother back to **** her while her son was in a rugby match, |
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You in the club, turnin' up, doing the dougie dance, |
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I'm at your crib, choking a b1tch with her underpants, |
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Are you not perhaps afraid of what might happen? |
| [02:59.958] |
Are you not perhaps afraid of what might happen? |
