VERSE 1 [TheJonesMob]
f** y'all til my dick soft, sophisticated - no Rick Ross
Got some twisted b**hes with hot buns, getting baked and all going criss cross
That;s hot cross buns with a trick stop, and before I make this b**h pop
I gotta drain the blood out of her system til she ticked off
Sick rhymes, sleek words, talk fourth, skeet third
Murder her first, chop her up, then make that b**h eat dirt
I took the beat and I tweaked words, she on it til her knees hurt
And I won't sleep on no one but I'll have to catch some Z's first
Smoking vodka, drinking weed, I know all of this isn't free
It's imagination, simple dreams, the mustered minds of liberal teens
Alcohol and red bull seems to make ugly girls go wrinkle free
But looks don't matter to me cause I know my skins just pimple deep
If someone told you he heard better, bet he told you in sign language
Muthaf**a can speak nicer? Muthaf**a's a mime dang it
No won't leave that rhyme hangin', see me? Naw you're a blind f*ggot
Looking like Weezy Wee, blind from tripping off PCP
CHORUS [TheJonesMob]
I'm drugged up high on Copyright claim
I use a used beat officials all be calling my name
They say "Oh you are a criminal you're taking whats my property"
They in it for the money they ain't using music properly
I'm in a den shooting Copyright claim
They say the random raps I write are always awfully deranged
I'm rapping black music, living with a Caucasian name
Rolling up a fat doobie of some Copyright claim
VERSE 2 [TheJonesMob]
I'm a crip now cause my dick limp, but it could rise with a wrist flick
Leviosa, Emma Watson, relevance – I'd kiss this
I'm a tryhard or misfit, wearing wristbands about big tits
Flesh on flesh for the best pleasure – I'm always down to lick clits
A man dead that's “tisk tisk”, double purpose don't miss this
A ra/pper deceased each rap released – a double purpose hit list
I burn her bu*t, she's scared as f**, so now she seems to sh** bricks
She shat a f**ing chimney out – so her a** can still get lit quick
Stop that b**h she's not that pretty – Awkward if he's such an a**hole
I seem co*ky – It's just an act though, I talk quickly and spit a fast flow
Can't stop my city, but my city can't go, if you're saying amen then get your hands closed
I'll be banging a white queen – No lion no witch no lamp post
Round 1, Rambo verse me – Lambo – Mercy
Push a teacup it shatters quick, but Terrence shatters first, see
Round 2, that's two round breasts, hope these girls allow s**
I ain't Mr. Guru but I use discipline – that's no vow yet
CHORUS
VERSE 3 [TheJonesMob]
Matt, what you doing? Why're you such an a**hole
I guess cause I get mad cash flow and I slap hoes with my pants low
Exactly bro, now I'm asking if you f*gs won't
Mind if I take that line and tie it on the flagpole
Like Oh Canada you gays got no stamina
I'm the reincarnation I am, the flow's amateur
Got you woman, your p**ycat, your b**h and your ho, asking her
How much blue blood she's got left for Old Dracula
Well apparently I'm hurting like, way too many feelings
With my fist through the paper, that's punchlines that break ceilings
There's a lot less effort in my mind that y'all dreaming
I Spring on 'em in the Summer then I win her for all seasons, so
This goes out to the lil' dicks covered in foreskins
And to the chicks who led me on you can get f**ed with a forklift
And I'm loving abortion, but it gives women a choice
And these are just some simple thoughts from my criminal voice
BRIDGE [TheJonesMob]
Now hold up, I got a limitless choice
Of words, serving virgins in my immature poise
Now girlie, you can come get in my porsche
We ain't even barely married and I'm set for divorce
I put the S in her core, and I'm obsessed with her more
Than Mariah Carey-ing wine, she's an evident who*e
I shoulda left it at that, yeah, but then I'd be bored
Wait a day or so dog, I'll be sending out more
CHORUS X2