Count To Six

By Danimal Lector

On The Haze

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[Verse One: Danimal Lector]

One take, no bloopers

Name any kid thats smoother

I'll leave your head detached, hangin' like Mr. Cooper

You're gonna need more than band aids and sutures

Like the goddamn glue, I'm super

A juicer, its true, sir

Living for the moment, not the future

Like the show, you're the biggest loser

You an H. Commuter, I've managed to maneuver

Through verses and damage this computer

You? You're like a man that's neutered

Don't even waste your time trying to come

Cause with battling, this mans a trooper

Manhandle hooters

Stand, and shoot her

With a big cock, like a gigantic rooster

Me? Daniel, Junior

Outlandish humor

And I don't mean crashin' Mercuries when I say I'm slammin' cougars

Once I ran through her

I'm gone in 60 like Nic Cage, I'm ice cold, you can call me Van Couver


[Hook: Danimal Lector]

It goes one for the money

Two for the pills

Here's three reasons why I'm ill

I got skills, I do

I'm a chill white dude

I don't care if I don't make a mil, like you

Four for the honies

Five for you dummies

Fuck with me get carried by the six, buried quick

So on the count of six, you better split


[Verse Two: Danimal Lector]

I was the badass, back of the class, underprepared

The type to light up a blunt during D.A.R.E

Battle me? You got a better chance hunting a bear

Bearhanded, exactly, it's fucking rare

I murder rappers cause none compare

I call 'em J.T, they cry rivers while they runnin' scared

I got plenty of drugs, but none to share

Stratfords mine, motherfucker, I'mma run for mayor

Ask your girl if you're unaware

That thing in my underwear, well it hangs like Rapunzels hair

Dude, I'm scorchin' recordings

When performin', you're boring, like Mormons

Cooking beef up like a foreman

Have you wishing you were never born like orphans

Step and get served for free, man, like Morgan

You're done, put the fork in

I'm a beast, half bull, like Jordan

Other half, bear, like Orton


[Hook: Danimal Lector]

It goes one for the money

Two for the pills

Here's three reasons why I'm ill

I got skills, I do

I'm a chill white dude

I don't care if I don't make a mil, like you

Four for the honies

Five for you dummies

Fuck with me get carried by the six, buried quick

So on the count of six, you better split