(Yeah... Feelin' cla**y today. Well, aight. Let's go.)
I'm not even one to psycho
I'm so afraid that everybody looks at my lyrics
There's a lot o' typo
(Yeah)
Money rate growin' in my pocket is the minimal
Runnin' from the mobs of people
Treat me like a criminal
The pinnacle of raw entertainment, my basement
Throwin' rocks at main events
I ain't revel the havoc
and take it easy in the hammock
Al Quaeda is the testimony
Don't you ever rectify
The k**able syllables
In the pinnacle of emphasis
I'm a creepy little rapper
Comin' out the factory
Capture me
I will be the toughest rapper actually
Watch me as I drag my a** to the top Gradually
(Ugh)
I never Sleep
I stay away and prey on the weak
Then I devour the freaks
and then I pray for the weak
I transmit gamma rays
And break off the manta ray's tail
Raise hell on a Saturday
And stabbin' people
Yeah
Another rapper washin' the dishes
People look at me and my sick compositions
(OH SICK!)
I am done with this feelin' (2x)
All you s**ers this evenin' (2x)
Are goin' down...
(WHOOOOO)
*** Thanks for these lyrics