Hey, (Weird Sounds)

Shoutout-shoutout

Jen, shoutout housecat

Eastside scum, hysteria..

Hurtgang..

Bitch im in tokyo

Higher up than a rolling stone

Who the man that be in my room

While I’m-tryna catch a Z-or-two

My interviews overdue, bring

Death to the clones of a

Spider crew

No hate, just a fuck you too

Not pressed by what you do

I’m M-C let the mic confuse

It’s righteous soul food, for

The album do, bitch

I don’t wanna follow rules

Shameful that the underground

Never heard of me

Bagel-put a

Hole in you at the bakery

Staple your jugular

Maple syrup got me

Ostrich binocular

Infamous popular

Penmanship doctorate

Paying for features, i’m doing

The opposite

Wouldn’t even pay myself

As a customer, cus i’m lazy

Like a slug with a caliber

She for the streets why the fuck

Do you follow her-

(grunts because

I ran out of mangos)

Yuh

Polta-polta-polta-poltergeist

Shake the house up

Fuck is your advice?

In the boof wit k-pin-tommy

We workin forty hours

Feel the power, rollin sour

Eddie bower, coward tower

Over other rapper niggas who

Allow it-

Fouls like a wolf i howl

No cowl, my fro in need of a shower

Should i cut it or not

That’s not the plot

Versatile bailing me out the box

Kick rocks, slipknot, not trip

Sit, sick, stick, flip, grip, Glock

Slipped now im so sick

My sickness is potent

Pour it till filled

Still poor shit please stop