[Verse 1: KC 2.0]
Dramatic huh, you're looking at the young and the restless
We're k**in you, bullets to the chest and you're vestless test us
Guranteed I'll pa** with a surplus we brought an extra man with the clan to the circus
Front row seats so you know we spent dinero
Top notch beats like ham tv
No heroes
All villains all winners
Even when I stop still movin like car spinners
b**h thats a throwback f*ggot I know that
Got a song for every f**in click of the Kodak
Take pic p**y I'll be chillin on the wall getting p**y pics
Imagining im breakin down her walls with this minidick
Unbearable like no yogis allowed
Sleepy off some mid cuz I can't afford the loud
See me in the back eyes scanning through the crowd
I'm trying to find the b**h that still has my black an mild
[Verse 2: Pyramid Vritra]
Darker thoughts in light of happy evenings
The moment I end it all'll be the moment they don't believe me
Pistol couple pocket knife wedding can be deceiving
Met on a blind date then f**ed she came and left me bleedy. 1, 1, 1, 2 mic check he's overdone dude
Them Shiny lights and awkward nights on stage must have gotten to him
Just a few hours ago he seemed fine
Such an asinine prick but yet he came off as benign
He walked on stage high as f** the same as patterson
Drawn, reflective metals skin egyptian patterned son. Pools of kooler-aid kiss the stained planks
Diet on the frits from dyed sugar water and stageplanks. Thanks. He slips while uping the next rapper saying give it up while swaying like a privleged drunk chapter member
He only resurrects early november, but until then its just another tember twards tember, remaining the redest cold winter
[Verse 3: Tyler Major]
They always ask him, why he flow like draino in the kitchen sink
He says that its his duty to serve his spectators and royal sphinx
Please look at the program, tell me what the issue read
Not the best anything in the posse so dont stomp your feet
Gametime fiscals, bet that on your masterpiece
Foreigns observe it closely, the homieland's nose bleed
But if it wasn't for his sqabblin and lolly gaggin
He wouldn't be missed like that experience in your log cabin
--Middle nights with his thoughts to please the territory
The lurks will always counter smurk philosophies to tell his story
Before a shot of the "whose who inside my womb" juice
You would have already felt the tickles inside your belly's loose tooth
You heard that barkin right? I wonder if he's startled
Too many allegories inside his messages present them borrowed
The man*script and weapons cloaked like the masked zorro
The readings were so profound along the lines of winny g harpo