Lyrics:
Sci-fi
I'm about to murder this beat like a drive-by
10-minute rap, leave nothing in the archive
You niggas rap but really only part-time
I'm about
of perfectionism that they push in they pulpit
Homie what is you doing
Don't you understand when the apostle Paul said that's some bull sh-
That is some dung
What is
heads
When I step foot in
Feel like John goodman
big Lebowski
I'm bigger than you
Ever could
Would
Should be
Niggas chase the dolla
On the reel
Like
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
hard she inhaled her nose ring
What is this behavior I'm supposed to be endorsing
Like Power Rangers, my flow gets to mighty morphing
Pulling out like
Wow, we in stereo?
Question for the ages
What's going on with my back pages?
Rappers wanna be down, but listen listen
You got to feel it within
Wow, we in stereo?
Question for the ages
What's going on with my back pages?
Rappers wanna be down, but listen listen
You got to feel it within
got the skills to pay the bills, y'all
Woo, getta got, gotta got, gotta got some
We got the mad skills in '92, boy
Yeah, you know what I'm sayin
Graduated college with nothing that got to do with music
But Rob Schneider in my head yelling you can do it
Stress killing me slowly so
This Christian baked
cock in my hand and I bear arms like John McCain but I’m no republicain, John F. Kennedy is the fucking name. Please no flash photography or you’ll here
out
And I’m going to change the name, like I
Want to perfect this moment some more well
I think it’s just if you’re a
Perfectionist, that’s just what
"Daddy, what are you doing?"
Haha, okay then
Everybody, listen up
I'm goin' to hell
Who's comin' with me?
Somebody, please help him
I think my dad's
then this is how we're doing it yeah
You tried to bring mans into it and that
Okay then yo, yo
Skepta the chance of you beating me in
This clash right
you what the power of love can do
Now I should attempt it to do it my way, my own interpretation of it
Like I said, everybody's got it's own thing
you act like I ain't lean on that fence too
But now you up here and bitches and cars is what I'm into
You wanna send me to God, I wear 45 in that
you act like I ain't lean on that fence too
But now you up here and bitches and cars is what I'm into
You wanna send me to God, I wear 45 in that
right now
I know they listenin' like
This young nigga be killin' this shit
Hip-hop is life's ciroc I'm 'bout to drop a pill in this shit
Let's go, esco
Ayo check this out son
This is my man Nas Escobar
And I go by the name of Cormega you know
(you gonna get your self murdered)
Yo check this out
slow let it flow
Gotta go you know I gotta go
I’m still trapped in the void
Yeah, like a vertigo
What you asked me for
I don’t wanna drown, down, girl
dropping a football
So every time someone walks in the john I get Madden
"Shady, what up?" What? Come on, man, I'm crapping
And you're asking me for my
dropping a football
So every time someone walks in the john I get Madden
"Shady, what up?" What? Come on, man, I'm crapping
And you're asking me for my
, doing, doing
The way she moves, she dances like a go-go
In that video, she sings, "Get out, you bozo"
I need a new boyfriend, hi, my name is JoJo
I put it down like this for you
Remember Whitley avenue
And everybody who I love back where Im from know this the sound
If you wasnt back on Harlan
making the house
Somebody told you it was formaldehyde
(But isn't that what they pickle the frogs in
In high school?
This wasn't like that)
Anyway, you
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