Lyrics

Run it up run it up bitch I be one of the best in the business I'm messin' but really though Sure you ain't bad but you needin' some practice Look what I got bitch it's nothin' but sadness This is where this shit get you, yea hand over fist but the fist hit you And the hand slap back like I panned that vocal track Got a cold soul so I gotta cope with that Got a bull by the horns, rose by the thorns and I'm bored by this track already So I move it along don't improve it at all, pause then I'm back on ready Bet I be poor man's me by next year, I can't really flex come and check all the text here But I got a flow like laxative overdose, comatose yea I be copin' at home alone That's quotable, I'm sick of this shit like my other hoe, ask me I keep it a hundred? No, I keep it like fifty-six yea I be shifty as shit and it's wonderful, you a dumb adult I just dumb it down, bitch I run the town, that ain't really mean much Shitty scene, but could kill your scene like shitty actor better flee bruh Weigh shit like a Libra, ain't shit but the beat good, ain't fit for the backstage I twitch like a flick in the ashtray, shake hands and my back break Fake friends do it halfway, you ain't even know my last name You just know me by my handle (You ain't even know my last name) You don't know me homie, I'm a solo dolo and I'm full of myself, feelin' myself, get a mic Get it right, rhythm might help, your girl wet bet I got a stroke like swimmin' Mike Phelps And you hella right shit I got hella vices, oughta be righteous on a beat like this So Amazing Grace yea praise the lord, don't wanna go to hell better stay indoors Kick in the rear from the kick and the snare when they played with chords, yeah Gotta write more gotta write better better when I write more if I stay the course Got new jewels? I'll appraise 'em for you, no new news? Are you lazy? Oh yea Cold Pabst but it's all flat, long chat I'm done now don't call back Y'all jokes and shit like bunny ears, y'all quote my shit like bunny ears Get out the way I'm running here, I'm making plays don't interfere I put in work, you barely here, I put in work, you volunteer Can't see the scope, we huntin' deer, this microphone my hunting gear Your wack verse took a hundred years, wrote mine over lunch and beer Restaurant playing Chandelier, got Xbox playing Gungeon yea Life a bullet hell and I'm dodge rolling, platformer I'm side scrolling Budokai tenkaichi get the win is easy peasy see I'm comboing Wa-psh, yes I'm the best in the biz, y'all little eggs like a quiche, bitch I'm a beast I'm getting spit on the mic so I'ma just kill this scheme, ay yea Y'all ain't shit on the mic though people just feel your memes, ay yea "'Ago ain't fit to be kind though I think he's really mean" I'm a pessimistic exhibitionist with a pestilence a death wish on my desk Give your bestest estimate or shitty guess, think my excellency isn't written yet I'm a good for nothing and a workaholic, cocky shit and a nervous wreck Throne's needing better ergonomics, when I sit and write I always hurt my neck
Writer(s): Miles Evans Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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