Rhymes for days. Lyrics: I'm hopin that it's dope to rap. Like im smoking grass. Went from broke to cash. The hard but hopeful past. My fingers cut up from all that broken glass punching all these rappin dudes like im fuckin mad at you You're like the mall cop at the store we all shop regular paul blart. off to an odd start. Cuz I mean i guess you seem smart. Maybe you can work in a theme park. Where i go hard in a go kart as i blow darts into your heart then take it out with a crow bar Make a ho stop givin me blow jobs you know these hoes just want money money money but money aint a thang bitch aint it funny it can teach you how to sing not how to dougie And yea im charming, but wish i was lucky. So fuck wit me and make money. Yo i am a betta me, and a betta you I don't blow amphetamines because they're edible The flow's on Parr, yea it's still incredible careful before i kill you all because i am individual Miracle flow even the deaf are hearing it underground like harriet! swing low with the chariot Drive by mcdonalds strapped with a big mac yea i rip tracks better than the riff raff so get mad, hulk out if you cant handle it wrecking these amateurs but i pay for the damages your vigil was candlelit the man demands that the can of this cannabis vanishes shit that can't exist dried out on canvases. land it on a landing strip, pan it out on campuses Pass the spliff i want to be handed it so i can walk sky high like anakin. Burn it into your skin, yea we branded it. pound ...
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