Busdriver - Bottom b**h (OG Version) lyrics

Spoiler alert I came here to titty twist saliva glands So place your bets, save your breath and hissy fit firebrand I can't entertain these eery rock'n'roll staples Like spendthrift, I spin discs on periodical tables Take the basejump that makes you barf Wheathins Your showreel's bone meal under the stage lights My everyday's a coming-o-age c*nt's carpe diem And this is why I treat LA like… She my bottom b**h, cuz you my bottom b**h Its safe to say what you think I'm saying's a crock of sh** Because we fight a lot like this was Gaza Strip But you my bottom b**h watch me make these chocolate chips You my bottom b**h, why you my bottom b**h? Because you think I'm the source of all awesomeness So be my bottom b**h come and be my bottom b**h I look good in print so I keep the desk light always on Here's a glimpse into the s**life of automatons My every evening is an M night Shyamalan Lackluster ending where I spend nights at Comiccon I ain't from here, I'm from some ragtag ferris wheel I blew the horn ‘cuz you were born smack dab in squaresville For a limited time you get to view the purple lotus Plus I give soulseekers that Youtuberculosis Y'all polish wood and just leave a sleek finish But I'll score Bollywood when my mood piece is finished I don't acknowledge hoods I eat good and speak Finish With secret sects on Meet the Press yet please the left and tease cynics Teen s** and free clinics is your town's greatest resource As if falling off's a motherf**ing resource So I entertain the young star baby gaga grudge match which tugs at The lumbar ganglia, so I'm hunchbacked You my bottom botch, LA you my bottom b**h To love me your heart most be bottomless But to me you are precious, I'm on some Gollum sh** But you my bottom b**h from top to the bottom b**h You my bottom b**h, yes you are Them other n***as don't hustle they just cotton pick But me honey, I bathe in lava pits You can not take the budgetary woes so your live band's on a charter bus Openers get poked with spurs screaming ‘I am Spartacus' I put a fine comb to the flightplan of you starter-ups They need rides home when I'm in Iceland in armored trucks Rolling up to places on that VIP sh** Head's swivel, I wet my whistle with these ice tea sips You'll offer me a loaf of bread a cot and a sofa bed Cuz your scene's dying in need of an IV drip And I'm Chinese medicine, you guys need to headspin When I press bu*tons Yet nine times out of ten this LA tea party swabs balls So I'm Lee Harvey Oswald with a call time Fall in line yougin' because I'm posted at the speedtrap I've been here so long my n***a that I bleed tree sap You overdressed sleestaks rap with swollen urinary tracks You're very wack, give me my scene back