Watsky - Don't Be Nice lyrics

[Chorus] Don’t be nice [Verse] My policy is to call 'em as I see 'em, no filler Quality people lift me up like the Colosseum pillars Some go from pitching religion to sipping 
on kombucha Politicians switching positions like it’s the Kama Sutra Our narcissism has got us caught up like 
bars in prison Claim we’re winning gargling seven dicks and a jar of jizzum Your momma's a true beauty bu*t makes me weep, I call it a “boo-hooty” Truly a hot mom Other moms are doing their squats wrong And if you don’t dig it when I spit it like an open spigot and I’m doing my duty To drop bombs False modesty is a guilty habit Some people simply have it But the fact is I would not have spent a decade doing this If I did not believe I was at least tiny bit ridiculously filthy at it Wrote a book to branch out After tour let’s have a singalong and camp out Cause I came here for a single reason And that’s for friendship And for drinking til I can’t count—now If you’re Jesus then we break bread If you’re Beavis then we bu*t heads If you’re a bu*thead, or a fake friend I smack ya back to Hollywood enough said Skin cream jars Thin teen stars Wanna hear a laugher? A white rapper walks into 16 bars I am large, I contain multitudes I’m in charge of a strange cult of dudes Infinity versions of me in parallel universes from total teddy bear to ultra rude True, I don’t measure power by bravado, libido Or by popping bottles with Hefner in the grotto in speedos I’m never sharing my moscato if you s** like mosquito So “open up” said the taco to the burrito, motherf**er Don’t be nice, don’t be nice Drop all the f**ery, stop it you ugly ignoramus Don’t be nice, don’t be—rude and brainless Don’t be—super basic Don’t—move if you’re contagious Don’t be nice—la-la- la-la- la Don’t be nice—I’m not listening Don’t be nice, don’t be nice Got nothing nice to say then—don’t be nice Gather the wicked to sacrifice s**ing the dick of the antichrist Kicking the bucket is vital to life I know that’s the price Don’t be—candy striped Don’t be—parasites Don’t—do me dirty Don’t—think you’re worthy Don’t—hurt me Mercy is not a courtesy currently that occurs to me I turn up eternally, you will not stop it True—my crew hotter than hot pockets (This dude Watsky too co*ky, let’s co*k block it) We do what we do because it’s true to us While few puppets in suits up at the top profit And if you got a new coup then I do not knock it But I bukkake your Bugati with snot rockets