Frstmait - Check the Stats lyrics

[Intro: Ronan] Yo what's up, it's Ronan, a.k.a. Bad Dick Shoutout tree gang, shoutout Laryngospasm, shoutout Trash Money Yo shoutout Mrs. Yen for starting us on this game Shoutout the bang boys, you know Yo let's go, let's do this [Verse 1: Ronan] I've been cooking up this track for a minute Middle finger, take a seat and spin it Pulling up in the fit Whipping, whipping, whipping Yeah you better run Because tree gang is in it f**, roasted me twice now I'm really mad Said I gave bad dick, you rap in comic sans Weaker flow than freshie knees, Gannon tries to smash When I rap I go ham, Gannon spitting spam Said you needed a surprise, I said me too man But I'm just acting funny call me Josh Gad Best album ever? I think you can use some pointers Heard you rap at Tucker's and I gotta say I'm disappointed You look like the type of dude to shave his leg hair off f** you doing rapping about Sophia Azznara Go back to drawing pics of James Dean Maybe James Dean if James Dean sipped lean I was gonna leave you alone and not meme I was a closet rapper but it's summer 16 I was trying to be funny on the gram just for show You didn't get it, how? Nobody know Playing ball looking like a scare crow I don't don't play but I never miss the shot though About to hit you bullseye with the crossbow Knock you back a couple feet with the Fus Ro Try and k** me I come back just like Jon Snow Call you Ramsey Bolton and this is the ba*tard bowl Mac's my second in command I call him Davos Rapping so hard I united Westeros Andy on the court wearing all the Velcro Strapping up cause you can't tie laces You're less than a full deck, no aces What are you doing roasting me, get wasted Thinking you can rule the game, you just roasted Naismith Want to be an actor, oh, that is so basic Trying to be a rap god, all I see is imitations [Verse 2: Macdaralamore] Bar flow, y'all know No Guinness just straight business This my freestyle This my meme-style This my what you mean I steal style? Hold up, no Yoncé Just Chauncey, got to get your billups It's strictly gas, so I guess you can call this that fill up Don't pop xans, just pop tags I'm thrift shop, that Macdaralamore That Mac DeMarco, b**h you know my hounds go bark-o Don't swim in the water man, they be shark-o 750 on my feet, you can't afford to take a peek You know these boys, they really sleek It's that Fetti vision with a vibes movement Don't slow down, we really cruising That red Fit, shoutout to Revkin And my 'Preme fit, looking real matching Play this track when they be slacking Only Dickies, real work attire In the studio, my Carhartt fire And just like that, West Coast, you know I'm in and out [Verse 3: Ronan] You've gotten along just on your looks If you roast me again I won't be reaching for books Shut the f** up I've had enough of it Choking after prom no air like you're past summit Said you wouldn't remember call you Pat Summit We in calc together but you don't know nothing You're too slow for me because I'm super sonic If you roast me call me Birdman put respek on it Your album is sh** Looks like you've got a snitch Everyone's asking him about it He should stream it on twitch Rap isn't something that turns on like you're flipping a switch Going back and forth lickety split Come at me I'll put it in my mouth the full clip Don't mention me I heard my name on album Don't sleep on me Trying to roast me, do it more openly Yeah, Ru produced your album jokingly Andy are you okay Couldn't help but notice getting roasted on Sunday I becoming first when you letter like A Never coming last but I rule it like Zé You're slow to anger, but quick to react There's a difference between a girlfriend and a chick that licks your sack You said that no take backs Trying to ride on Peter's sk** so you gave him a whole track What's that I'm wack? I'm not wack Look at that The pot called the kettle black You think you're better than me It's time to check the stats