For the Kids (Freestyle)

Turning up on a Tuesday with this bottle of Jameson

I just ran over two gays with my Harley Davidson

See I can spit that sick shit; your parents are hating it

Like I'm some kind of homophobic racist Satanist.

It's safe to say I'm a bad influence

Teaching kids how to skip school; Turn their asses truant,

Telling them to stay home and smash up daddy's Buick

How to load a clip, pull it back, and shoot it.

You can sucka sucka my d dick-ida mother fucker,

Even with this stutter I'm sicker than any other.

With this many of us,

Tripping on fifty uppers and sipping on sippy cups of

Henney and Robitussen, mothers are afraid we'll give their kids ideas,

And turn their sick nightmares into real life fears, like they think I care.

Guess what kids, dads having an affair.

Your Mom found out, now it's the end of their marriage.

Is that what you’re afraid of? Cause this shit isn’t made up.

Just one of my tracks can really mess your day up.

Fuck wordplay, I want you to know what my words say,

So you go insane when they blow your brain like you were Kurt Cobain,

And this mixtape was your shotgun.

Come Christmas, all your kids’ brains will be rotten,

Cause I’m stuffing a copy and a box of condoms in each one of their stockings,

Along with the sex tape I made with Rihanna and Emma Watson.

I'mma take my first album and wear it as a necklace

And still have more diamonds than your bitches Christmas present.

My first impression is less than impressive,

But I gotta temper that’ll get the best of the best if I let it.