Will Rehm - Morning Routine lyrics

[Verse 1: Will Rehm] Wake up at 7:30 throw on my bbs Get dressed like I'm in a hurry Time to see the daily bs Check the fb, whats this Raleigh messaged me asking how I slept I'll tell you how I slept Rhymes crept in I let 'em at 11 poppin' Clonidine, Excedrin I slept like I slept in the Columbine gym Eatin' breakfast of champions and Gin bloody napkins in my sanctum I hate 'em when they askin' questions just listen to my rhymes No events squealed this week? Thats fine I'd rather stay home and tamper with beats than eat and drink Pepsi in nose bleed seats Dead center of my screen asking me how it's going like Caral Nilson f** all of this sh** I'm trying to E-vent I'd rather invent complex rhymes that y'all call asinine it's the only thing in my mind as of nine and since of that line my train of thought is going right in a gold mine like I did Acid at nine on a Friday Night My lightbulb dims then brights These dimwits ain't doing sh** but gettin' lit hot boxin' in a tent There craniums in the toilet I flushed it Mines frying in a sk**et with my sk** I add some salt and pepper then flip it in the gutter I'm not Inca Gunter I'm Ink a flow better You can't stomach this motherf**er I got rhymes in my mind tucked tighter than nines in your leather sweater The flow gets wetter like Portland Weather I sever several of these lines and snort them like 5 R-I I'm always in my prime Trends I Ignore them like trashy who*e women I'm not trying to release a whole Horrorcore album Rap is adequate don't add a quit to this mix of spit toxins So if you came to Spitbox get lost I'm a pit rot mix Flow so wet it's frost Brains turn to sauce You're gonna need a storm drain rap flows through my veins like Cocaine in your membranes Step in this ring the only thing you're gonna get is the finger like when I stickin' it up Tina, beat her steal her heater and two seater Acura, Crash it through an over pa**, land straight in Kim Kardashian's a** hop out and dash, hows that for accurate? b**h I'm a Pimp so limp dicks is all you're ever gonna get, so wipe that white sh** off your lips I'm picky with chicks like Tulips Kinetically kick a trick steadily in her hips 'till they're bloody Chugging Liquid Tricyclic 'till my head short circuits I got a motherf**ing mother board of four letter words and I'm always giving a complex and I don't mean apartments I mean you're definitely developing a deficit Jay Electric couldn't shock me back to emceeing so f** metaphors and deep meaning they're too bleeping mean for your dumb diddly well being I'm spitting freaking heat sinking missiles Abbie, don't blow that rape whistle on me unless you came to s** D like I asked you to on I-G after you vetoed me So what's it gonna Be? I'll pull up to your addy high off Oxy like Zoxy just to do some boxing put you in a taxidermy Don't let me get started on Allie or her sister Vallery I told her she was foxy she socked me, blamed it on my munchausen by proxy Excuse me no excuses I'm just an emcee with no frontal frontal lobotomy I'm only 16 I can't even see an R-Rated movie When I was 3 I had no N-C-P-G so sorry of I say you're looking juicy while eating at Dairy Queen I can't tell the diffy between my dreams and reality especially when you're giving me a stiffy I'll be, back in to back in to your back ally in a jiffy I'm too busy having an Autopsy while drinking Coffee Ooooh you're such a Hottie Will you slob me? Probably Twat I should let bygones be bygones but she's the reason why my Toilets clogged I'll literally f** that sh** before I flush it with a Vitamin B4 shoved in my forehead I suffer from dizziness and head rushes from my constant busyness and snorting dust Kick boots with the truth I don't trust a motherf**er [Verse 2: Will Rehm] I'm drunk off love High off hate I'm a Love-aholic Weight addict Not enough space in my head-case attict I'll probably overdose and wake up in a craftmatic Fall deeper in a state of manic, panic and slice my eye sockets Oh you're so outlandish Goddamnit I can't control my pen that's not me that's my Evil Twin, so don't blame me blame him If rap was a sin I'd be Satan I'm not playing you're just waiting for the day I change my ways but that day ain't happening So grab a Napkin and Asprin here's a Big Mac get ready for Morbid Obesity My train of thought is screeching in your ears I provoke queers 'till there emotions provoke tears, then cut them with them garden sheers Maybe that's why it's so small up there? It's just a ball of hair from a Koala bear, a bottle of Odwalla, old Vodka, Macaws, Tampons, Band Songs, Bland Bongs, Chinese Tongs Vietnamese Thongs, Japanese Ping Pong, King Kong. Long Johns, Iron on's and Lance Armstrong I'm too antsy I got my Spitboxing pants on You have no chance, I'll continue to kick a**