[Chorus]

Voice going flat like a curb stomp

Shape my wood, do it blindfolded, yeah, bird box

By the third shot, rhythm intense, my courage pops

Like the mugshots, flash, back with the third song

Take a mugshot, murder spree, now they all gone

[Verse]

Yeah, bitch, bird box, fuck it, bird house

Getting wood like a herb crop, leave and burst out

Writing non stop, never stopping, in the cockpit while crashing into waves while yelling "aw shit, aw fuck"

Got the Tourette’s, on the third set of my shots

I’m bout burst in with the props

Yeah bitch I’m thirsting for some thots

My Minds absurd, yes, but bout to give it all that I got

Binaural music filled with the thoughts

I think I’m done with the music that flops

Bitch I’m bout pop, huh

Got a million hellions to drop, yeah, they fell but I’m not

I’m a top dog, smoking fuckloads of pot at the back bus

Bus driver’s fucking jaw dropped, but it’s okay cuz it medicates the leather inside of my

Drop top, fuck it I don’t own shit but plastic guns and fake clips

I’m all that and a bag of the chips

Grabbing a knife and then stabbing it in

The poltergeist, I follow you till I win

Breaking the ice, fucking hammer to your chin

I do not you like it when you try to defend

All of that shit, I’m on a whim, I am the remedy, you’re a toxin, I am a god, yeah, pay for sins

So you’re outgoing I guess, I must confess, I don’t really believe you people are getting anything but rest

I been thinking like it’s chess, “how long till I am the best?”

Bitch, I been fucking up lately, but I’m coming for the heads

I am a little annoyed, so I’m gonna make you dead

I’m gonna make you fed with all of the shit you said

You looking a bit upset cuz you look like Anna Rex, see I

Think I am the best and you are tryna protest

Coming in the minute you fuckers are talking trash

Yeah I'm coming to kick your asses and kick you outta the class

You're tied up in a lasso, I'm leaving you on the tracks

All the hustle and bustle today is gonna kill you fast

I fucking recommend that you run ‘fore I finish you

The illiterate spit you blew can go all on your tennis shoe

This is fire like satan’s room, but I spring up and blossom too

I'ma end up on top of you, look at the fury y’all have brewed

Why you looking at me like I’m savage? Sure i got the battle axe but I grabbed it so I would have it

It’s scary on top my mattress, cuz all of my friends are capping

Like the heart up in my stomach I am bursting for some action

I am hurting for attraction, AKA the fucking slapping

My hands and attracted to your face, whether punching or smacking

You ain’t coming to my luncheon, bitch, it is not gonna happen

You get what is my cabinet, spices and fucking radishes

I’ve not met a madder bitch, but I have had badder bitch

Yes I am fucking on your sis, now I have addresses

Take your head and then bash it into a wall and then grab a wrench

Find your pulse and then clamp on it, tug on it till your losing skin

Tug on it till your bruising it, do it till there’s no bpm

Find your soul, then I’m reapin it, piss on your grave, you’ll sleep in piss

Acid to your skull seeping in, like the bench when you sleep on it

Gravity pulling you through shit, lyrical assault blew this bitch

(Chorus)

Voice going flat like a curb stomp

Shape my wood, do it blindfolded, yeah, bird box

By the third shot, rhythm intense, my courage pops

Like the mugshots, flash, back with the third song

Take a mugshot, murder spree, now they all gone

Voice going flat like a curb stomp

Shape my wood, do it blindfolded, yeah, bird box

By the third shot, rhythm intense, my courage pops

Like the mugshots, flash, back with the third song

Take a mugshot, murder spree, now they all gone