Furkan - Drop lyrics

(Verse 1) ~it's the kid from the midwest, your chick wanna lick and ingest Cuz i rip sh** dip sh** you just sh** to say this sh** in its simplest I'm index finger, you the other one that's sitting next to it Motherf**er, i'm the expert, you just the experiment I'm celibate, cuz i cannot be f**ed with you s**ers “Can't Touch This” Even if you busters are drunks that love to get Hammered, MC I'm nice spittin that ICE, chewing Dentyne Two letters describe my haters, cuz all they do is NV (envy) b**h please, doing things you won't believe, Ripley's You can get f**ed if you still hatin' on me, quickies Ha, but i'm raw so no protection Hard no erection, my bars so complex-ion is still yellow My fellow asians, i'm reppin' Stereotypically smart, i'm here to teach a lesson Take a seat and peep the session, grab the beat and hear percussions And make a banger motherf**er Smith & Wesson Indigestion, haters just swallow your pride Or throw some Pepto down ya throat, allow it to ride Cuz i am outta this world like them Apollo guys And you a sorry motherf**er, apologize! Permalink: http://lyricmv.com/lil-crazed-drop-lyrics.html (Verse 2) ~ha, it's k.i.d but ain't nobody even sonnin' me I'm gonna be, the hottest thing that your girlfriend loves to see I'm asian and I rap but i ain't “him” so don't bother me Unless you like sipping Gin (Jin), then go ahead and swallow me Alcoholics anonymous, go ahead and ponder this I poke your Pocahontas and now she call me John Smith I let her see my johnson, now all she eats is sausage That may be why you squares bent outta shape, you rhombus I'm a mothaf**in monster, you an impostor Invading my casa, you gon' meet my roster And when you meet my roster, you gon' need a doctor Cuz if you raw, our bars'll cook you, then we eating pasta Hasta la vista, she probably gon' leave ya I Comfort your girl's Southern, i am So Co (cold – Cole), Keisha When i'm leaking ether man your speakers probably seizure Cuz my moves making movies like what's featured in your theaters Surround sound around town, they talkin' bout the kiddo Center of attention but i ain't the Malcom in the middle You call yourself an ICON, to yourself you might've been But to me you are garbage so i drag you to “Recycle Bin”