Untitled Song
• Written by Anonymous
Beat spliff the heat difference on a new car
golf par, you go far, I’m giving you two stars
plotting a new course, smoking a Newport,
I don’t think that it will really happen like Doomstarks
you rude sharks, with your slippy done dippity
I’m that old man, dancing hoppy to the hippity
serendipity, that’s what you were
putting on a curse to the gucci-branded purse
About to burst, lure him in the trap,
I’m going back to old ways, then going bitch slap
tip tap, on these wooden creaky stairs
to the top of the statue at the Texas state fair
call me Black Bear because I eat any in sight
you call for a fight then you got a new plight
Tight with light, you a comedy like farce
fucked your girl, then came back and did some new bars
the room’s dark, feeling fucking suspicious
reminds of my climb from selling smack to doing dishes
these bitches, with their whoring for attention
I don’t even know if what I’m doing is even different
I’m fucking mental, rapping over instrumentals
I’m trying to figure out, going over fundamentals
It’s true, you stay out of the blue
I swear I’m fucking flowing like the flu, type-2
two thousand and two, drip drop to the floor
open all these doors to just get a little score
fuck, give me some more, I’m tipping over
My dick’s so long, fucked a bitch and hit the ovum
I’m over them, I’m not a rock star
but I hit the new bars with my new street cars
mother and father, drinking the dirty water
a pretty bad follower, hope I haven’t a problem here
a Pop-Tart, with that Brown Sugar Cinnamon
change sentence to sentence, I wasn’t taking my Ritalin
my sixteen tenants are taking a hit to grin
So much money, call it greed, seven deadly sins
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