k**er Mike - Butane (Instrumental) lyrics

[Featuring: El-P] [k**er Mike:] Looking for the truth, yeah it's me, Everythang polo to the floor, go even at the grocery store It's so perfect, take a photo And take the pic you buying b**h and so stitch you logo b**h you with the quatro, but my girl Mercedes With the Audi say the quatro was a [?] You can put on k**er k** or fat boy or just Michael Call me what you want but still never call me rival They will call you dead and I will call you gone The loss with Jesus we be will be we'll be calling you home An underground rap [?] what I'm meant to be Then I will be the sh** and you ain't sh** to me We won, we the ones with the champagne, champagne At the end of our campaign Spit fire, main true like the blue flame, like the blue slang Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Let me see your hands up if you do say [?] and we both like Husain More money, more problems, more butane Burn the motherf**er down, down, Life's a b**h so I'm mack on her immaculate I don't wear no market watches Rolexes to accurate My rhymes actually accurate, meaning I don't fiction in my diction To the ma**es this perfection is perform through many practices This like prostitutes to mattresses this sh** just come naturally Easy a** osamas, bamas, taking many casualties Like Columbine I'm down for mine [?] k**ing them or k**ing me, this is my senility Iller than the iller then the illest be, I will spit this illest sh**, from right here to infinity Till I reach the dirt, I will search the earth endlessly Looking for the [?] ain't nobody lyrically, as I'll as me As eazy e, come back from the A-I-D-S yes, get a beat from E-O-P, ghostwritten from my partner T-I-P cube Every time, travel back to 95, jumping in a 63 Impala, playing Cuban Linx We won, we the ones with the champagne, champagne At the end of our campaign Spit fire, main true like the blue flame, like the blue slang Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Let me see your hands up if you do say [?] and we both like Husain More money, more problems, more butane Burn the motherf**er down, down, [El-P:] Yo, I'm a grinch with a grin, I will sh** on your kids Get a light, get a grip, get a hold of my dick b**h Make a wish I'm the knife, I'm nothin' that's nicer than gettin' sliced up, the switch, the machete, the fetty, yeti, the sheister icer, gettin' closer to Christ, ya might just find a design to your life, the angel hair short of the divine love I stink, I just stunk up a truck with 12 bricks I'm a Sphinx, snort so much my nose just broke off, think I'm alone again clutching a loaded glock soaked in chromium hoping the thought police just don't bust in my home again Life is tough, you'll get snuffed on the buff so dystopian, rough, rough, hear the call of the copper mutts on the hunt, What the f**, this is not what my mother said I'll become Star spangler wranglers got my hopes on the run, getting closer now Maybe our society's supposed to drown Middle finger up on the Titanic as it's going down We won, we the ones with the champagne, champagne At the end of our campaign Spit fire, main true like the blue flame, like the blue slang Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Let me see your hands up if you do say [?] and we both like Husain More money, more problems, more butane Burn the motherf**er down, down.