[Verse 1]
Aye, bumpin' off a bean, and yeah I’m talking dopamine
I’m logging off of Twitter ‘fore my bitches try to cancel me
And yes she's wantin’ all of me, so I'mma give her sodomy
And flatten out the place like my name was fucking King Dedede
Record it on a DVD, release it under Missing T and make it free
So that way all my fans can find it easily, and feasibly-
Codeine and I came up from the sticks shit, so when we link up it’s real recognize real bitch
And that’s another hoe, baby girl I gotta go
Y’all hit mе up and it’s like I’m playin fuckin’ whack a mole
And let’s keep it on thе record, I could off myself at any minute Matter fact I almost did it, but my momma called me talking 'bout her day and shit so after a few minutes of it I recalled I wasn’t lame
So mother fucker no we aren’t the same, aye, aye, aye-
Motherfucker no we aren’t the same, lil bitch
I'm a pink and black checkerboard, no it’s not a metaphor
The source of my contentment turned out to be just a couple whores
Zant a couple broads, now they swallow up my kids therefore
I had to make a follow up before I got bored like
“damn dude, I mean not you, the absolute freshest-“
Marquee on my back- let me reiterate the premise
White boy, nice flow, a couple dollars to blow
And lately I been havin’ problems like my sugar is low
So my crew walked in looking super-duper vicious (yo)
Ice in my veins, I ain’t even gotta finish (ho)
Oh you got a bad bitch? Let me go and get it
Hold up I'mma take it slow, it’ll be more than a minute
Like yeah maybe 10, maybe 20 or more
I got a dozen bad bitches lining up at the door
And that’s no exaggeration homie, dozen or more
Woke up the next morning and a dozen were scored
[Interlude]
*sample continues*
That's the premise of the joke though, you know, like...
I set it up and I said I had sex with
Twelve different women in one night
[Verse 2]
Aye, what you waitin’ for?
Homie what I pay you for?
Hold the camera still so I can properly exert my force
I'mma punch a hole in yo chest, you want the smoke kid?
Pull up, left-right left-right, I got you bent bitch, aye
Gamecube days, they got me lit up, uh
Nostalgia forms a suit, we playing dress up, aye
Thirsty ass hoes, we finna drink up
Cause I ain’t been the same ever since the fucking break up
Man If I die young, I hope you did your research
Don’t put my ugly mug on the front of a T shirt
If I made my own music, if I made my own games
If I made my own art, then I made my own way
All I need or want is a fuckin’ legacy son
And creativity is a gun and my mind is the opus
And I never felt better than back when I dropped “Bogus!”
So shut the fuck up and let me talk myself through this-
Aye, back to the basics where I like to be
Any deeper than the surface and I'm bound to bleed, yo
My head is pounding, damn, I need room to breathe, though
My brain is pushin’ on me like a Bonsai tree
I make music about my own mind you see
Mix it up with different shit all promiscuously, though
My head is pounding, I need room to breathe, bro
My brain is pushing on me like a Bonsai tree, damn-
Ayo, I shut shit down like a pandemic real quick
Lowkey annoyed with all the bitches on my dick
And I can't stand fuckers that just label me a prick
Im a realist, one that will Paytas you with this candlestick
I don't know what you heard or what you been told
Promise I'm a cool guy underneath all of my showboat
But if you distract me from my federal reserve notes
I might have to touch your hoe, bro, and go ghost
