HOOK

I don’t know, man, I don’t know

I woke up one day, drawn to flow

I had this dream so long ago

The rap game needs K Bibbles, yo

I’ve got no clue what I am even doing

But I know why it’s what I’m pursuing

Word play’s fun, I find it so amusing

Take my words and start the misconstruing

I don’t know what people have been viewing, so misleading and confusing, reviews are skewed, and it’s approving all the spewing

This ain’t the type of screwing I want proven on a mood ring, it’s the type of screwing that’ll need lubing - glueing

NO

I don’t know ‘bout y’all but ain’t nobody but me touchin’ my asshole

“Exit Only” quote around my hole

Only me and TP goin’ down that road... or a hoe

You know I don’t mean a thot, I mean a bro

And not a bro in the sense of with a dick, like, I’m talkin’ ‘bout a bitch, like a man, with the “wo”

Also

She better be a homie in the sense that she doesn’t take it all emo-tion-al

We can talk about our feelings, obvio

But all of the time? Shawty gotsta go!

HOOK

Please no more talkie, I need smoke

I’ll toke gelato from my bowl

I’ll drop some Lucy, that’s my girl

Then pop some Mo, that’s how I roll

Candy flipping, trippin’ off a tab from a lab, and a rock with a lady’s name - simping

Chin is grinning

Tiger in my blood, like a young Chuck Sheen, so I guess I’m winning

Clever spitting

Fitting what I can in, that’s called willing

I’ll be drowning in the pussy, but the boy still swimming

Just one night, I’ll leave you limping

Quadriplegic from a damn good dicking

“Oh! How sickening! You should know words are a little bit crippling”

Not the best word choice, that’s called slipping

When ya slip, that’s tit, cuz it leaves me dripping - splash

But I won’t go “drip, drip”, that’s that trash

When it ain’t about the craft, only ‘bout that cash

808’s, some bass, ad libs, some ass

I could try to hold it back but the boy been brash

HOOK

Kyle’s dead, I threw him out

You’re dealing with K Bibbles now

Laughter master, that is what I’m after

Let’s talk range, that’s only one of many chapters

Mixed in with disaster, and pockets gettin’ fatter, then cash slim fasted; I was always gettin’ plastered

Mentally was scattered, when I cared, it didn’t matter

I would rather speak my mind and that’s why I became a rapper

No hook, no need, like Jay-Z, but less blacker

The cracker that’s adapted to all types like I’m a hacker

Daggers - vocally, I’ll stab ya, get ya whacked cuh

Capture all your final seconds streaming through the plasma