Lyrics
Somebody fill my cup while I keep this reefer burnin'
Come fuck my mood up, I hope you do need to speak on somethin'
You can sleep on me but your deathbed is the sheets and covers
I mean if you beef then the repercussion's the reaper's caution
Fuck 'em, tell your favorites I'm a league above 'em
I put that on every piece of pussy that my penis bust in
Lord, I think I can hear them demons call me
Christ, they're tryna cross me like the Jesus somethin'
That's a super bad look, rappers seem to be McLovin
Sayin' Horroh's weak and then ask for a fucking feature from him
I fuck your bitch when I see your woman
If she doesn't know me, I'll tell her I'm Justin Bieber's cousin

Are you not perhaps afraid of what might happen?

They could never call me ordinary
What? Fuck 'em, with one foot in the mortuary
They said that hip-hop's dead, I hit them all to get it
Put it on my back and I don't even think the corpse is heavy
Tell them stupid cartoon rappers Tutankhamun's back
I'm 2Pac with his juice back
A zoot wrap, two straps, a Hail Mary two track
Bitch, I'll kill us all if you don't move back
Kamikaze, I find it hard giving half a shit
Narcissist, I guarantee I've got a larger dick
This fucking groupie tried to send me to the bar for drinks
I told that thirsty bitch, "Here's a yard of piss you could hardly lift"
Bob Marley spliff will put me where the martians live
I use a couple bloodclaat yaadis as my pharmacist

What might happen?

Bitches like kick flips (Yay), all up on my gnarly tricks
And they just wanna blow me like some broken Sega cartridges
I led my hyenas to the deer's blood
Not a strong enough for bringing me a werewolf
I've got a big old gang to get it cleared up
Trip and lead your sisters to leaking liquid from tear ducts
Keep on giving that weird look, you'll get hit with this beer cup
Bully bitch stomp her head, if you're full of shit, you appear tough
You're nothing here to our motherfuckers in here
Don't suck a dick, you come near, you'll get fuckin' kicked in your beer gut
Victims in fear when I put a couple whispers in ears
Man, enough fuckin' kittens in here, tell them pussy whiskers get sheared up
Mother, cousins, and peers but they not heard from you for years
'Cause we get cut and chopped, then we clear up
Bloods, innards, and smeared guts
Sufferin' succotash
Took an upper-class slut mother back to fuck her while her son was in a rugby match
You in the club, turnin' up, doing the Dougie dance
I'm at your crib, choking a bitch with her underpants

Are you not perhaps afraid of what might happen?
Are you not perhaps afraid of what might happen?

Copyright: Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Adam Steven Rooney, Joel Thomas Zimmerman




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