Bricks On Da Beat - Gary Johnson(2016) lyrics

Oh watch out I'm k**in' off this new sh** All these rappers are a f**in' nuisance I can't stand you homie, I'm just sayin' Someone shoot 'em, hold up I'm just playin' If you got the Glock, #PutTheGunsDown Cuz everybody on the f**in' run now Didn't have ours, so it's cool to POP now?! Tryna get the picture with the issue cropped out...whoa This sh** go! My boys gon' hear this be like "this my bro" I knew he had it in him, knew the kid was gonna snap A year ago he said that he was finished with the rap You must be stupid, to let this go Stretch some p**y, then flex the flow Where I'm at, my chick never know Got The Good Wife, and a mistress hoe Hold up, Now we bumpin', this my jam We been f**in', oh this ya man?! How you doin bruh? my name's Ant And I throw parties in your girl's pants Think she love me, but I can't say Cause your dumba** is always in the way You triple texted, and they got read But then she blew me dude, white girl head She chokin' on the green like I'm Cee Lo now I'm tryna put my peen in the f**in brown Ay if your lady got the pink then I'm goin' down Orange you pleased with my banana now?! So cuff your girl bro, watch your lady Bet your a** she want a dimpled baby If you bite my bars, expect to pay me We can work from home because I'm f**in' lazy But know that I been workin' on the verse I murk with no rehearsin', far from perfect but I got a feelin' I'ma get it there one day Kinda nerdy, cause it's 7:30 And I'm burnin' every little noob goin' Scump with the Gun Game Grandma used to called me "Flaco Loco" Entiendo mucho, pero hablo poco Momma laughs when I'm speakin' Spanglish And yet praise the son, like my parents Paegan, UGH! (Someone's gotta speak up) So quit the rappin', for your benefit Take your a** home, write some better sh** All your tracks sound the f**in' same Your boys ain't tell you, that it's f**in' lame??! "I'M IN THE TRAP, WHILE 'IM WHIPPIN DIS WORK COOKIN' THAT CRACK FOR MY BOYS ON THE CURB! COUNTIN' THESE RACKS WHILE SHE ROLLIN' UP HERB" That's some of the whackest sh** I've ever heard... Oh I'm sorry, BRO U MAD? Not my fault that this music's bad If we recycle garbage, then put out trash I'ma tell you why this sh** is just a fad Ya see the infinite derivatives of invaluable integers Will help a lyric mathematician an*lyze it critically I'm the type of rapper that he wishin' he could get to be The hottest song you ever wrote's a bunt and not a hit to me But before I get distracted from the point I'm tryna make I hope you understand you'll never fill the spot I'm gonna take I'm the coldest millennial in the Lone Star State Naturally I gotta deal with some Lone Star hate It's all good, I'll be fine Stack this pumpernickel, f** a dime Drink my DOS with a THIRD of lime In the FOURTH, baby I'm on fire Plead the FIFTH I can't tell a lie My SIXTH sense is my sk** to rhyme SEVENTH heaven,Lord I'm hella high Smoke an EIGHTH on the back NINE Number game hella stupid dumb 69 until I'm due to cum In my DM, C? like ya boo was RUN 0 dates, we just f** for fun I don't like Netflix while chillin' in bed If you at my crib then it's Hulu and head With her bare hands she be kneedin' some bread I'd rather see what that mouth do instead... Bro she gave me dome like a frappuccino lid That latino kid, spit that primo sh** You ain't know about Chicago?! John Cena sh**, she ain't ever seen the kid Bumpin' Drizzy's "Vistas" in Lago Sold my soul to the Devil and he gave me a refund Even Lucifer told LeBron not to play for the Heat, son But even when you're hot, you got to reach for the flame Cause when you know you're the best, you got love for the game (One time for Leander I guess, right?) This that locker room 4-5!!! Austin, Texas got me SO LIVE Houston had the kid SLOWED DOWN San Antonio?........CHOLAS Dallas got ya boy buck as f** Waco wildin' in a pickup truck In a 4x4 tryna get it stuck Ya see down south, they all down to f** Yo I catch these hoes then drop em Boy I'm like Dez Bryant, STAHP IT Feel like Chris Brown on Poppin' Bout to beat these singers up for profit….JOKING Sippin' horchata, scream viva la raza You know that your boy is a bean, ayyy Bake empenadas, verde enchiladas Tu sabes I'm all bout my green, ayyy I ain't really tryna f** wicha Just a smart a** with some dumb b**hes Before you go and drop another track Bring that real hip hop back…