Wax - Hollyweird lyrics

[Intro] Chi-town to LA Stand up Scrub Life Beach Squad! [Verse 1: Wax] Los Angeles tour guide for The Palmer Squares Eye of the tiger like shades a kid at Auburn wears Does a vulgar bear sh** in the woods? Same answer if you ask me if my spittin' is good An un-astounding guess -- a resounding yes Music lovers bump me and they start frowning less They find inner peace And they wake up with their chis in balance Their s** lives improve they start to skeet in gallons I have a hard time being challenged They bring beef but it feels like I'm eating salads They spitting hard but it sounds like I'm hearing ballads Bravo, you have the opposite motto as DJ Khaled's Sick like my dick gets scabs I'm from Maryland though, I really miss crabs Dick grabs to the dick that's how your b**h grabs it You could say this sh** is like a chick magnet But, I'm tryna find a woman that comes without stress Always fly baggage-free like Southwest p**y good but her mouth best First place ribbon Nathan's women division contest But I ain't obsessed cause I'm 'bout progress Only when the world's complete did God rest Amen Amen A meant it again amen [Verse 2: Acumental] Yo it's the immaculate amazing always pushing the envelope Rampant double agent in the bush with a telescope Hella dope, get hyped when I rock sh** Life is aquatic Spike the concoction Find me intoxicated cutting the sequence Puffing a tree forever stuck in a pretense I'll pummel the defense and jet past the goal line I'm steadfast you posers been dead last your whole life My crew's sadistic Abuse a highfalutin nitwit The rhyme is too consistent Kinda stupid in'it? I'm a human dictionary sh** is sick as dysentery Visionary though it's true my intuition varies Pardon my wordiness but lately I been curious if anyone can market tight verbiage Got the impeccable vocabulary Head for the doors Settling scores when I execute my adversaries Palmer Squares break bread with the son of Sam Gonna cram eight heads in a duffel bag Cause right about now I'd like to lock the block down Hot sound Rocking high on psychotropic compounds Bet you couldn't find anyone cooler Pff, anyone, anyone (Bueller) When we come through better run for the exit Check it, one two then I wreck sh** [Verse 3: Terminal Knowledge] I'm no Leroy Brown but I'm bad, bad Jimmy Croce spit bam bam Bigalow heat I'mma steal your crown A grand slam hitter I simply won't tap dance the man tan tippy toe Stare like Thibodeau Sleep with an open eye Head for the bed and all I reach is the floor beside The most wanted Stoned hophead at the post office Terminal Knowledge Turning no profit It isn't in me to be unsuccessful But it seems to be the industry's like swimming in a f**ing cesspool Look further I'm coming straight for ya Book burner done taking orders Good Burger Piff for sale Nuggets on a digi scale Split the dutch twist the blunt like a piggy's tail We're not kids no more But we're probably meddlin' Y'all better watch what you tellin' em Stop yellin' He cannot spit cause he ain't got any melanin Call me Donny cause I'm out of my element If need be my team hit the scene and deregulate it Legislative when I put the pen to paper Gla**-Steagall Bad music for bad people Mad love from LA to San Pedro Don't stop burning So hot, inferno Term make the kernel go pop like a damn weasel