DranaL - Mouth lyrics

[Verse 1: Maximilian] Stitch the NASA patches, into the Rats jacket Slappin' Kid Cudi with the RATATAT backin' I'm back at it Catching happiness in a fast minute since last winter When my head smashed in that black Civic, and Not trash but I'm what's dropping in the litter And them cats dig it, I'm not kitten Smashing baddies with ba** hitting, and the, windows is mad tinted Shorty's catholic but she's mad sinning when you begin cash spending Arrogant ad-libing and synonyms abstract Dino stash Human tees and trees in his back pack And we catching cataracts for a Kat Stacks You know the type that's quick to pa** that a** back then ask where the cash at? Back back, I'm strapped with dad's gat Packed in Bape knapsack next to Samurai Jack's dagger at Matter fact I'm Midas with the slightest tap and the track's yelling (TOUCH ME!!) [Verse 2] And I'm.. snoozing in a Humans tee Tuned into the Goonies see, I Don't get out much pupils glued to the movie screen Keep 'em shut from The Shining, enthused by a Kubrick scene Dudes feud with my music but it's fuchsia in ya moody ring .. luminescent whenever the mucus fling And uhh... if I die in a minute, remember me as Bart Simpson Copped a half a mil' house just to spy on your sister With no a**istant my words Burns say bi to Mr. Smithers Bread is nice but my Homie said the Marge's still bitter And I want to stop logging into Twitter But my relevance is eminent the blogs don't feel ya..boy Cold as cryogenics on 9th planet, my Miami Annie I stick the fingers in and she might come in handy Now get it? Im snatching snitches like Quidditch I'm Narcissus mixed with Syd Viscous Kiss This, I'm trying to dig in a miss britches Then dip in kitchens to fix some sandwiches I got the scholarships but.. spent it on Diamond and Dollar prints 5 Basquiats and ox moccasins No f**ing common sense but ain't no f**ing consequence I'm young and f**ing co*ky, confident, and f**ing talking sh**! Father's pissed cause I'm rocket-shipping pa** the college sh** And landed at the opposite of pocket lint with a lot of it And my conscious is stopping me from flaunting But don't let me get that yacht I'm docking in Obama's offices Can't stand that I'm back? Well, how preposterous Now arch your back pretending I'm fathering Kate Moss' kids Don't let me get more in depth Cause I'll continue to flex more than your morning reps And I'm mourning for the next, and forewarning for the rest And that's all you f**ing get