[Tyler]
|
In this fuckin line at Ralph's
|
Buyin granola bars
|
Left my member's card
|
And now this shit gon' have an extra charge
|
This old bitch in front of me buyin a color printer
|
TV dinners, tampons, soy milk, paint thinner
|
|
[Domo]
|
So, here I am
|
At the store for some chips
|
That I'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit
|
And I'm still high, so I'm tryna dip
|
But I'mma cut through the line to get outta this bitch
|
|
[T]
|
What the FUCK
|
Who the fuck this gay nigga in fake Gucc
|
Drawin numbers, whateva, wood chain wid a Jesus
|
What the fuck you think you doin
|
|
[D]
|
Nigga fuck you!
|
I'm just eatin ruffles
|
Gotta lotta stuff, fool
|
So, why don't you fuckin wait
|
That stupid look on yo face
|
|
[T]
|
Don't make me shoot up this place
|
With light sabers and guns
|
And shoot caps and knee caps
|
To make it harder to run
|
And put your ankles in some boards
|
And pissy water for fun
|
|
[D]
|
Nigga, I'm a samurai
|
Cut your skinny ass in half
|
Look up at the aftermath
|
Blow some fuckin hash and laugh
|
|
[T]
|
I'm a fuckin ninja and a jedi and I'm from Compton
|
Better pick a better option 'fore these Nikes get to stompin
|
Chompin at your oxygen chords
|
You fat, fake Keenan Thompson
|
Like a virgin, cherry faggot
|
We could get it poppin
|
|
[D]
|
I bet you lock and drop it
|
Faggot bitch, you ain't from Compton
|
Dumbo ears, you Mary Poppin with the piece that Gill was rockin
|
I will fuckin beat yo ass
|
Box logos through the glass
|
I'll hit you hooky like you skippin class
|
Lee would get the math
|
|
[T]
|
Oh really? You're silly
|
Giving tip drills to nilly
|
Get them Ruffles noA??
|
Cause Kiara might kill me
|
Aw, fuck this
|
I'm grabbin two kitchen knives
|
And stabbin this Ice Cube look-a-like
|
To show you a nigga with attitude
|
|
[D]
|
Wait, I heard about you
|
From that other nigga Earl
|
How you traveled to Milan
|
And now only likes girls
|
I'll roundhouse you into a fuckin basket
|
Push you into an old lady baggin plastic
|
Hope you get the message
|
I will stomp you into potholes
|
And fill you up with shells
|
But, you're used to eatin tacos
|
|
[T]
|
Oh, a taco joke
|
Domo smoke
|
I heard your album sound like some shit a fake Wiz Khalifa papa wrote
|
I'm insulted, shit
|
Damn, somebody grab the Charmin
|
Nevermind these messages
|
Monica her niggaA??
|
|
[D]
|
Swift maids, switch blades
|
Made a big incision in him
|
Red dot his forehead
|
Cause Riley's into Hinduism
|
And hipsters who happen to be your listeners
|
Doobies roll your booty ho
|
Alexis know the truthy, bro
|
|
[T]
|
Oh, a Lexus?
|
I drive that all around the western hemisphere
|
Like all of Kiara's ex's
|
And bet this
|
I'm a mothafuckin monster
|
Fuck talkin, I'll stab you with this fuckin rocket launcher
|
|
[D]
|
When I cock the beam back
|
I'm aimin for Supreme hats
|
Go to hell, I mean that
|
Burn you like green backs
|
|
[T]
|
You don't mean that, you faggot
|
I'll get your back and I'll snap it
|
And strangle you with that fuckin leather jacket
|
Fall, bitch
|
Give me everything
|
I'm takin all this
|
And fleein the scene on Rufus
|
My evil walrus, bitch [walrus sound]
|
Fuck you, I'm out
|
|
[D}
|
I'm high as fuck
|
And I didn't call for all this
|
I'mma get on my zombie shit
|
Wait, here's my carcass
|
|
-----------------
|
Super Market
|
| Domo Genesis |
