Great Dain - Atebit lyrics

[Great Dain] Yo I'm Trunchbull, locking punk rappers in the Chokey I don't f** with beef unless it's on my list of groceries Rocking sh**, playing f**ing Bop It in my momma's crib Eating chocolate 'til my teeth the color of Obama's skin Super sick, seducing chicks with my music Getting stupid every time I move a Bic Constantly producing hits, y'all don't know what music is Talking like you hard as f**, God I think I'm losing it Sorry I don;t mean to be looney, I'm white lame and goofy Bum life, rocking tie-dye tees and bluejeans Ruthless dick looking for the rubies like the Goonies I sold my soul just to get some new keys Scummy like a j**el thief, heartless, don't criticize the art, b**h Dain to the raps like Blaine to a card trick Y'all are Scott Farkus, ugly as f** garbage I'm part martian and to the point like a dart tip Eight bit samples that are tighter than a facelift Basic, make your balls drop to the pavement Got your necks twisting like a lane switch Hit you in the face, kid your raps lame as a sprained wrist God damn! y'all just on the Plain Jane sh** Same thing just a different punk in his basement And I ain't got no patience for all that bullsh** So Imma say it the way I wanna say it, and you gon' take it Face it, I'm your favorite rapper dude I know you hurry home to listen to my raps after school I just laugh at you, I'm bout to go mad, just act a fool Start smashing sh** and f**ing snap like a plastic spoon I'm magic dude, I'm finna wrap a doob Sit back relax and sip on a gla** of juice Stupid a**, I never had a clue Always sat in the back of the cla** writing raps, snacking on food We are not the same, I make dope sh** And you don't, b**h, I get it cracking like a glo-stik Y'all are bogus, I'm old school Hulk Hogan Coolest kid doing music sh** in all of Oakland Don't slow the tokin', do the locomotion Funky a** rhythm got the speakers overloading Guess it goes to show that Great Dain's the most dope It ain't no joking, 'cause the game is straight broken Yo I'm here to fix, it's looking clear as sh** Y'all are too delirious to f**ing hear the wit Well here it is, Imma formulate a plan With zero dollars and a fricking quarter tank of gas Imma drive 'til it's dry and Imma never look back Old school 'til I die b**h, rap till I pa** So f** a job, I wanna spit for the cash And if that sh** don;'t happen Imma dig through the trash to eat