(EP)
Yo, yo, yo, ayo holla' at me, but don't holla' at me
Keep a fat hag with a back fulla bacne
His hairline workin' on a 3 shape
Spare time smirkin' on how to fake a knee-break
A true ache for a splurgery
Methods it will take like an unneeded surgery
A photoshop 3rd degree burnin' me
Just so he could earn a G turn to the furnace, see
He sell what he stole like a PF shelltoe
Just to get up out the hell hole
Stuck like velcro, dwell where the smell old
Sharkin' chickens up in Melrose!
If you don't like it, burn them things
Get a new pad with them old dad furnishings
Known to run stints with the fowl work
Ink on the body plus a shoddy prince albert
(hook)
(Matter ov Fact)
Yo, yo it's clear as the coast is
That his vaneers are the grossest
Bless a house mic with severe halitosis
Nothin' else poppin' for the tall brute
Word on the streets that he's shoppin' for a lawsuit
Black man and the short male white
Known to jam the brakes with the two blown tail lights
So before you set your sail with your flight
Just make yourself a shandy and throw some ale in your sprite, iiight?
n***a hit the town trollin', crawlin' out the drivers side hit the ground rollin'
Things could be deceiving on the journey
Even a love tap and he's leavin' on a gurney
He's just a poor litigant , who needs a settlement to cope with his torn ligament
Neck brace, that's a fashion accessory
For a little taste of the cash in the treasury