[Intro]
"Really?"
"Yea dude, did you hear about Wyz?
I heard he was in rehab, sharing a room with Lindsay Lohan"
[Verse II]
Contrary to the popular belief that I'm getting gone
I'm here to drop some weight on the neck that your head is on
I'll take the meat off your face (Ow!), slap it on some bread
And put some lettuce on
It's the upper echelon cat, but only in the brain
And I'm still far beyond rappin if y'all wanna still hear
The obvious
I put on some condiments. Maybe some mayonnaise, some brown
Mustard... Nah can' trust it
A lot of y'all remind me of when I turn the bottle upside down
And get that weird WaterVerse
But some of y'all would say that this is not a verse
And I agree, it's like an excerpt
From a global warming dissertation on the amount of heat I
Exert that later on explains the real reason why your flesh hurts (Oh!)
And when you're runnin round town with that wet shirt
Tell em that you're watered down take away the guess work
You're best working really up the spec (no)
So I'ma hang out, eventually your people gon cut the check
It's spring time, you can catch me after 10 at the 755
Cuz I don't like the nosebleeds
Can't stand the upper deck (Nope)
No we can do it in the parking lot, what the heck
Just make it out to Wyzsztyk, Care of Psyche O and get the
Name correct
Hold up! Syn and Dave about to interject
[Breakdown]
(So we're ramblin on and on and ain't sayin nothin)
(Blah, blah blah blah)
(Be quiet)
[Hook]
So what's next?
You bums know you just can win
And why's that?
It's said and done way before it begins
And by the time it hits the end you're wonderin what happened
You're speechless, Shut the hell up and quit flappin
It's guaranteed that we won't miss much
And after this, there won't be much more to discuss
So what's what?
Your rhymes are weaker than wet napkins
You're garbage, Shut the hell up and quit flappin
[Verse II]
Yo, I'm all set to bust words and button lips up
Rear back, and smack the rhinestones off your pimp cup
Them rainy days got you dosin it up
While my crew be comin with more cuts than Nip/Tuck
It's herb surgery, cutlery slice perfectly
When I'm in the street, please don't say a word to me
You still screamin but I'm keepin it calm
So just pretend like you're about to put on some lip balm
And keep your lips sealed, and keep your eyes peeled on
The prose like ya stabbin at Jessica Biel
At the laboratory batteries and testin reveals
That we're shatterin the efforts of the rest of the field
I'm findin it so hard to stay real when you only
Talk about cars, and get a record deal
I wish I had a rack, get them buffalo sauce
With them celery seeds and ranch colored steering wheel
And you gon watch a waiter ripe to strip for one of those
And I run around the block just to keep you on your toes (Youuuuuu)
Be yellin at me like I walked into Moe's (Welcome to Moe's!)
So I'll take a close talker with some cilantrooo
(I said shut the fuck up)
[Hook]
So what's next?
You bums know you just can win
And why's that?
It's said and done way before it begins
And by the time it hits the end you're wonderin what happened
You speechless, Shut the hell up and quit flappin
It's guaranteed that we won't miss much
And after this, there won't be much more to discuss
So what's what?
Your style is weaker than wet napkins
You garbage, Shut the hell up and quit flappin
(Shut the hell up and quit flappin)
(You garbage)
(Shut the hell up and quit flappin)
(You garbage)
(Shut the fuck up)
(All y'all, just talk. Too much talk man. We right here, we ain't goin no where man, we right here. Too much talkin man)
