[JOHNNY TRA$H:] You can find my other body at the bottom of the Mississippi I encountered d**h and I have survived I created a monster and somehow brought it to life I am the drifting soul who always survives Consider a warning, motherf**er: I will not die I'm on the train of thought that takes me All the way down to Georgia Got these rich girls praying for procession Down in south Florida Don't want no pill if it's poppin' I want the beat if it's droppin' Roll one up and I'll meet you in the truck With sacks I've been rockin' Trop-A-Delic Funk-A-Shizzle Hunky Dory Mrs. Wiggle You got that a** that makes me trip I'm seeing double, single, triple Pop them yoga pants into a vegan handstand and flip it While I'm sipping on my drink And booking shows while I'm trippin' Putting exes on my calendar and O's on my headstone Tattooing my name on your left thigh next to your bones Left eye, snake eye, red eye flight to California Got a couple people waitin' And you don't wanna leave ‘em lonely [HOOK:] You can find my other body at the bottom of the Mississippi Wish I was just singin' ‘hallelujah', but I can't stop gettin' trippy Can't stop Concrete shoes Madonna Mafia Sleeping with the fishes You'd vote Tequila Party If you'd seen the sh** I did with politicians You should see the sh** you're missing Mrs. After Hours…Mrs. Afterparty Put ‘em both together Light ‘em up and then give me a forty... I said, b**h, give me a forty Curveball slinger Conway Twitty Con-man got his gun, now I got you getting sh**ty Can your old lady hold my money, Mr. Money Sacks? How deep them pockets go? You trying to f** with thugs and drug dealers And live somebody else's role? I thought I did it all with motherf**ers like you He was five years younger than you [QUEEN MICHAEL:] Middle finger up, riding with my little hippie Another Philly and probably four more cold billies Have some X, we'll do some s** She said, “What's next?, I got a text.” So, b**h, you gone Queen Michael on that wild sh** Queen Michael bought some vial sh** Take the dip, take the clip, B What you ‘bout? Herb? That weed? We got them trees I'm on them Xan's I got them Vans b**h…you ‘bout to get that p**y snuck I mean hit…knocked out That life? Queen Michael clout Whatchu ‘bout? On the way to the Big Dippy, in the stars I'm going straight to f**ing Mars, gettin' trippy