Childish Gambino - Assa**ins lyrics

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Childish Gambino - Assa**ins lyrics

[DC Pierson] MapQuest where the place is, gats in they faces Then we fold them up and put them back in they cases Assa**ins, replace expressions on faces And hard eyes on gangsters with hot gaping spaces Hands full of aces, pockets on swoll Gla**y-eyed aiming from my own gra**y knoll Leave JFK's head just a big smoky hole to console Jackie O she could, smoke my pole It's called Camelot cause she came a lot And a lot of you rappers sound the same a lot And the game is still out there if you play or not And I'm the (King of Queens), Kevin James is not I quit my temp job cause I can't let a day go Tomorrow's moguls, are delivering your bagels I hope your trophy wife been practicing her kegels Cause when we take the game we won't leave you any Legos There go the kid with his dirty white sneakers on Dreaming on a way to get his penthouse on Bleecker on Give your girl head, call you with the speaker on Horsehead in your bed, now you know who you sleepin on (Are you seeing what I'm seeing?) This booth is a crime scene Chalk off the mic, the k** screen is my screen No need to terrify or pop shots at witnesses They only testified they know what hot sh** this is [Chorus 2X: Childish Gambino] True a**a**ins, hold your gla** up Thems the type of n***az that'll cut your a** up Whether it be tracks or verses, chains or purses Them the type of n***az that'll make you stop [Nick Packard] Cla**ic a**a**in, straight from Central Casting I bust through your abode with both barrels blastin I crush up your skull like a truck that you crashed in I'm never gonna die like I'm Tuck Everlasting Never thought that I'd carry an AK All I ever wanted to be is Farley, Ferrell, or Fey And maybe someday that dream will come true But for now I got my gun and I'm aimin at you (hey!) In your house on your couch while you're readin I got no flow, it's more like breakthrough bleedin But I'm into cartoons and I'm really not sane All I leave of your body is a Pinky and the Brain (ugh!) I'm more Manson than a small-time crook When it comes to taking lives I steal like Dane Cook b**h, take a look, you know it's in a book Even LeVar Burton's roots get shook [Childish Gambino] Ah you can call me a**a**in, I k** Versace I walk too much, gotta Gucci watch me The illest of the k**ers you can tell by my fashion Light hoodie to bright sneaks it's all matchin I k** rappers, I don't need no stealin If I do lose a battle I'ma k** 'em for real I'm just kidding, or am I? Things get real in the City, of L.I. That's right I live in Queens, the borough of the lost I hate the f**in yuppies but I love how much it costs Call me in the winter and the spring to play tennis And they give me strange looks cause I floss like a dentist I'ma finish this sentence then get me a rope So I got a little dough and I'm fresh like Scope A n***a so dope, I got the new Pumas that never take a bath so I call 'em homeschoolers Numbers like rulers, I'm tired of it all I sleep in the club and I yawn when I ball I'm off the hook like phone calls, where's Kid Robot? I need a new hoodie hot pink like doughnuts The kids is Go-Gurts when they see my Gobstoppers I'm not Mekhi Phifer, but I got +Clockers+ Transform a watch when I don't got diamonds Boy, did you hear what I said like Simon? I k** boutiques, just snatch the new sneak I'mma do it every week, I'm a serial k**er Beats like Dilla, hun like 'tilla It's the Sick Boi thrilla (yeah, mon!) [Chorus]