Baauer - El-P and Despot: Selector Freestyle lyrics

Song starts at 4:42 [Despot] I'm going ham, I'm going cheese, I'm going bread I'm going sandwich, hold that famine, b**h, I'm fed I'm going so over your head you should eat something else instead When I blow up only hope that the explosion leave you dead Take cover, the mother of all mothers Of mothers of all mothers is coming and don't love you Run for it burn rubber, the 100 hit wonder That come with its own thunder that rumbles and oh brother The block snuggles under the covers and starts snoring The streets ain't watching no more, you're all boring If Queens says run it, don't jog, walk, or crawl it You breaking bread that's already broken I can't call it Fake the funkers fed up with frontin', should back off him Shake the leg of vultures, take off with your Air Jordans I take your head right off your shoulders it's fair warning Got the game sealed like a walrus in the thesaurus [El-P] Happy to meet you, limped here from a shattered town Grew into a firefly, shining where the shadows drown While others sit in sin we limp in unison like cattle prowl I legitimately signify how all us ba*tards howl Point out to another man who's longer held the haggle down I'll point you out a priest who never preached to Peter Pan and Pals Wink wink, now that's an automatic party foul Like cleaning out the bong with Bigfoot's tossed out sanitary towels sh**, I'm not crying wolf until the moon is out Ducking silver bullet clips, pull the flesh off grills in strips What a sin, play the full grip sip gin and spin Moolah of a wasted man, pull the trigger click and grin Better have your floaties on, tighter than a gastric ring I'll drown you in your soup of peers, fill a baby pool with tears I see you all in hell and flames, I'm chasing city money Cyclone in the summer, ride on my dick ‘til you're sitting funny