Danny Brown - Detroit 187 feat. Chip$ lyrics

The way these b**hes on my co*k You'd swear it was 1985 and Teen Wolf just dropped And my name was Michael J. Fox But no b**h, it's Danny Brown, I've got some weed up in my sock So b**h get high with ya n***a The sack I got is looking like some green caterpillars But it smell like a skunk that's oh so defensive These b**hes s** my dick like it was moral incentive I'm off the chain like broke nunchucks From where these little n***as try to shoot you off that new Chucks A little dark like wet nubuck Describe my state of mind is inside the tomb of King Tut Murders all the time is all I see Detroit 187 on you n***as' TV And I can first agree this beat k** a n***a no charges f** a female MC and a pop artist Oh baby, I like it raw And my dick so big left stretch marks on her jaw I'm so institutionalized I wake up 6 AM because I think it's chow time Borderline porcupine, a step from drinking turpentine Just to wash down a plate of wack rappers rhymes I got a mind in the cosmos And if these n***as cold then I guess I'm osmosis That be blowing on some potent, that these white boys be growing While you n***as smoking something smelling like a tanning lotion My concoctions could make world ending potions These other rap n***as got lines I got encroachments I get endorsements, so motherf** your co-sign Punch punchlines I'll punch rappers till your broke spine 'Member back in '09, I told 'em it was showtime Now they pull they cam phones out when I go for mine Light camera action, Hybrid be snapping 'Cause the days of no tissue had to wipe with wet napkins Smear up the cla**ifieds, know it sound trife But to be honest, a metaphor for my life, stop Chip$: Buzzing off the barbiturates and amphetamines Chase it with a forty ounce of Ready Clean I swear I never ever smoke the better weed Your b**h said I'm the swaggiest n***a she ever seen Run up in your crib, two K's, one mag Your girl get snatched like Cool J in I'm Bad Cost to live, you ain't made enough Guarantee bullet holes with a laser touch European garments drape my body if I ain't hipstered up If she smile with eye contact then the b**h will f** Homie gon' make me send them k**ers after him Them n***as swing swords like World Fence Champions You was popping pills and drinking liquor Now you thinking you a gangsta k**er I leave you stanking n***a, laid down Face down like you taking a planking picture But I can keep the shots in the weapon Put the bat to back of your leg Grab your chin and the back of your head And twist them sh**s in opposite directions