Umami - Intellectual

[Hook]

Damn girl, let me get it, let me get it

Nah, fuck that

[Verse]

I chose the sofa over queen sized

Yolk over steamed rice

Meditate to keep chi warm as steeped chai

Be warned, he seems nice;

Under skin lies a beast of a feline

Drag a dude like a rip of the peace pipe

Then chuck the duce, see trouble in cheeched eyes

Forbidden fruit seems ripe, solid chomp for

Team and three Vines will free mind

No budging in these lines, sucka

Cut the chit chat like crotch shrubbery

Fucked with ya'll, now nads bluer than Sully's

Vocals buttery enough for Dean to wanna

Chop 'em up with some colored cutlery

Bustin' nuts on marble statue busts

I'm a lover of art 'til guards catch me

Long cardigans donned to match dong, that's fashion

Stun samaritans with varied kicks and carry along

I'm snatching spans of attention whores

Who charge for expansions and fan polaroids

Saltines salty he ran from Campbell's, floored

Damsels after Link damaged; man's Gannondorf

Can it, dork, y'all put real coin towards Cam gals to squirt

The token snow maestro capture Tolken's work

In single stanzas. Trove of cabbage crammed in zags & smoked

Yeah, your slop got hogs herding

Me? Got sucked off while watching Bob's Burgers

Villain an exquisite mystic, spit in the caviar, curses!

Cop like, "Walk a line," I'm jogging polygons perfect (Perfect)

Yeah officer, I'm that rad

True as Matt McConaughey cast as Batman

My dukes up, prudes, I'ma snap with Panache

Spit fuel, spark it, boom, rap's a good match

These goofy goons got groupies groovin'

Tune in, tots! True music's ruined

Roll out autotunes while Prime perusing trough

Vinyls dipped in violet Sprite, screw politeness, loser

Dupe your crew into hazardous fumes

Gasping's all too familiar; happens when you're asked to spit Oops, phantoms can't lend a hand if they transparent

Flukes, go back to dad, ask for cash to pay tutors out tombs

(Bangarang) Rufio do the noise that you do (Okay)

I'ma free these fuckboys from the clutch of a hook (Okay)

Opponents' focus bogus, folks, Porky, close the cartoon (Damn)

Tabby that dude who'd dip confession booth

Leave father burnin' baggie of pooch poo

Crooks of sin scoop youth with crooked grins

Debut tape like Godot platin' couscous, wait

Two times ain't enough, fuck it, play this noob to doomsday

[Hook]

Damn girl, let me get it, let me get it

[Outro: BIGQUINT]

See, Tabby found solace in music. Instead of identifying by his anxiety, he chose to use it as fuel for his art. You realize a lot of people face relative fears and desire to prove that their inherited negativity can be transformed into something positive and tangible. And then there's times where he's cocky as a motherfucker for no goddamn reason