Greg - Artificial Sweetener lyrics

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Greg - Artificial Sweetener lyrics

I(Greg: Look. I know a lotta dudes get on this beat. But I think it's about time we thought diversely.) (Mike) Look, I got 6 spits of venom and a tape of Ken Kaniff Riding dicks, a lick and sh**'ll ride settle 2 nunchucks with a wood, I'm splintered With a style cooler than D-Day, world war winter Don't give a f** if I got like a few bars But I'm luckier to get up on this f**ing stardom Hardly harder than Yale vs. Harvard And a triple six bracelet impress Judy Garland (Probably Paul) To all you listening, stop f**ing with my sh** My ego's f**ing higher than reaching for giraffe dick I stretch for the stars but all I get's gymnastics Bought Brucie a helicopter, but he's already a maverick Good gosh, I'm anxious, shaken like a hound dog pa**ing peach pits Or Michael J Fox on a skateboard, can't wait 'till he jumps a 2 stairs and still eats sh** All you f**ing hypebeasts complimenting, saying I'm genius Ain't that good, but I'm better than most rappers saying the same sh** Stating they're as high as venus s** a penis says Hugh Heff to playboys Dressed as kinky little pirates, dick in mouth, mouthing ahoy Huey Lewis wouldn't treat his playboys like that He's got bigger bulbs in that sack than lights have (Nique) Hello everybody, the act has finally started Sorry for the delay but it's time to get retarded We got Nique, Paul, Diversity Say they got the worst of me Scream it at the top of lungs, Satan hears it verbally (Probably Paul) At San Vanelona looking for boxes of Pandora But I opened up the gang again, brace yourself for a Event, raise the roof on fire then call the building supply store My trojan broke, so I guess there's no choice but for you to die who*e b**h, you across the room, stop eying me a And when I f**ing spot you, you turn away faster than chili diarrhea Yeah I'm a bada**, cause I'm the one hunting bounties Making up to my mistakes up in Camden County Raps are hotter than two rats f**ing in a wool sock Dig up a legend and ask "Amaru 2Pac?" Swag of a monkey with a banana in his vagina You've got 25 stutters, don't worry I've been counting 'em Popular after Eat a Dick, guess it was the irish luck Now I'm holding in the climax, I don't give a f** I'm such a hipster, since the mainstream sh** is T's of Chucks I'm rocking black grenades cause I'm just so underground and stuff f** reading Thrasher, I read Skateboard mag And I'm so bada** that when I skate I sag So when I dress up as a queen I drag And head up to the clubs and still get bagged (Hustler JerryEric) Most get bullsh** from their tears But I get it from bull's rears Seize the day cause I fold seven and end the game f** a mask during murder You f**ers should've had heard her She was pleasantly excited Then gushed like fruit gushers (Probably Paul) Yeah I used to f** with Usher, now I'm digging for gold Eating Chili and mining for it, guess what my future can hold? Word, you talked to Mac Miller? Yeah cause I'm so mainstream That's the first song I recorded, don't f**ing hate me You f**ers sit and listen, don't even try to diss this Your words are gibberish, that's why they sound ridiculous Actually they don't sound like dip sh** God damn this hood sh** I'm a monster, Minaj b**h (Greg: There you have it. The next big f**ing collective f** Young Money Cash Money Business We in this sh** like swimwear. Hahahahaha Nah but I don't f** with them, they're alright Just no sh**ty a** MySpace emo bands try to head on us n***as.) Greg: Hello you motherf**ers trying to f** with us inside the a** I'mma f**ing let you know that there is a toll to pa** I got 6 liquors and there's a party with a stash Thinner than a suicide running through a piece of gla** Probably Paul: I ain't gonna f** with you but I thought this sh** was over I put the f**ing mic up until I heard the solo So now I'm freestyling, oh where's my oboe?