BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
5’9 flow
- Buy a ticket to your favorite part
- You a chicken to a dangerous shark
- Hammerhead bitch to a killer whale
- You smoke bammer, lead by pigs to jail
- You broke, stammer then ya kidneys fail
- Hope you’re enamored, I’ll stick ya tail
- Woken in glamour, I’m sick as hell
- Soakin’ in camera lights, rich as Mel
- Ordering a sandwich like I can command Stevie Nicks when she sit on a towel at the beach
- More time in sun’ll dam a vamp bitch, ain’t no fan of Fleetwood Mac, Hoover don’t leak
- Bored with your album, a vile cow dung from ya bowels could cook classic groovier beats
- Sore is your ass on acid still moving glass, sass and hash you still tryna push ki’s
- You never made it out the drug game, spoon fed by buddhist parents, go smoke ya tree
- Whether not ya faded, wanna be thug ‘mane, ya too dead, who is carin’? not thee
- Finding one to post bail bout as likely as seeing Crosby’s team try to fly free
- Mind the gun, don’t wail and shout ‘less Cosby gave ya diphenhydremine
- Kinda fun they think to take drugs from users say die fiends, hide ya dreams
- Why ya puns so fake, I’ll break mugs, dumb losers they cry streams fly fishing
- Try askin mum who gon make it, I’ll bruise ya in MK fatality die unseen
- Rye sippin’ bastard bum moocher stay limp if ya ask Don &Kay what the drama mean
- Die dripping blood from they ears when the limit removed from the master of voluming
- Drunks end gymnastics, they plaster who bringing earthquakes
- cuz you know shaky Jim tried to drop the beam
- Die for the funk Big ain’t whack, it was all a dream
- Call me Big Poppa the mop head, my dollar green
- Pigs tryna stop ya for bread, tell ‘em swallow me
- Won’t get this locker, dawn dead this ain’t Halloween
- Tarman retarded want Tina’s brains, dieting
- Tarzan and Kala saw Clayton hang violently
- Bar and a zan, smoking greener Jane go brag
- ‘Bout quality shit while my thuggers are rioting
- Fall on this dick tell your bitch fuck a dire being
- Stop sticks we throw on your street, get flat tires, see
- Though we ain’t cops, we will take this shit violently
- Hop on your car with a bat, check your vitals we
- Don’t give a fuck about you or your privacy
- Don’t hope for luck, we gon’ force feed ya dice or bleed
- You and your friends with a vice round your heads, ya scream
- [snare stops]
- Circumcise ya dull a tip point
- Tryna fire 9s pull a wrist joint
- Scrawny noose tying bitch hop a window again suicidal annoyance, you kid’s toy
- Said you failed, stupid idol bitch poise
- Try screwing yourself, little boy
- But this time you wake up in a fiery blaze, learn to enjoy my glaze getting dicked on Berith’s loins
- [snare continues]
- You think this a game, we don’t flip coins
- But we’ll punt you again, yeah we kick groins
- Smoke a blunt, send ya down there again
- going off of the grid like we just fuck with Rick’s Roy
- Broke in ya house, woke by sick noise
- Ya mope on the couch, bet ya miss Troy—I’m Paris of Greece bet you’d know what I mean like you Menelaus hating on Eris for discord
- Psyche!
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