Mo Mo - Oldie lyrics

[Verse 1: Momo] It's the philosophical Sending doctors to hospitals Fill my pockets with rocket fuel Sick mind, inoperable Opposite of the gospel Opposite of apostles Tryna stop all the sinning, I swear that sh** is impossible Flow's oxymoronical Comical f**ing chronicle You know, why ladies they Visit, the kind's conjugal Rappers f**ing making me Sick to my abdominal Willis, "What I'm talkin bout" Phyllis, and I'm Michael Scott You already know, blunts of that medical SUS GANG, knock you n***as off of ya pedestal Selling kids, bags of broccoli, I call it con-nobis The type to sell whiskey at Alcoholic's Anonymous I'm a bad influence, probably cause I'm under it Don't consent to searches, these f**ing cops can s** a dick Flow wetter than summer weather hitting ya under pits Punchlines softer than a bunter hits f**ing b**h