Danny Brown - Detroit 187 lyrics

[Verse 1: Danny Brown] The way these b**hes on my co*k You'd swear was 1985 and teen wolf just dropped And my name was Michael J Fox But no b**h my name is Danny Brown I got some weed up in my sock So b**h get high with ya n***a The sack I got looking some dead caterpillars But it smell like a skunk that's oh so defensive These b**hes s** my dick like was moral incentive Off the chain like broke nunchucks Where little n***as come thru and shoot you over new chucks A little dark like wet nubuck Decribes my state of mind is inside the tomb of king tut Murder all the time all we see Detroit 187 on you n***as TV I can first degree this beat and walk with no charges f** a female MC and a Pop Artist Ohh baby I like it raw And My dick so big left stretch marks on her jaw I'm so institutionalized I wake up 6 AM because I think it's chow time I'm a borderline porcupine A step from drinking turpentine Just to wash down a plate of these wack rappers rhymes I got a mind in the cosmos And if these n***as cold then I guess I'm osmosis That be blowing on some potent That them white boys be growing While you n***as smoking smelling like some tanning lotion My concoctions could make world ending potions These other rap n***as got lines I got encroachments I got endorsements so muthaf**a a cosign Punch punchlines I'll punch rappers til your broke spine Remember back in 09 I told em it was showtime Now they pull they cam phones out when I go for mine Lights camera action Hybrid be snapping Cause the days of no tissue had to whip with wet napkins Smear up the cla**ifieds know it sound trife But to be honest a metaphor my life [Verse 2: Chip$] Buzzin off the bar b**h you with's an amphetamine Chase it with a 40 oz of Ready Clean I swear I never ever smoke the better weed Yo b**h said I'm the swaggiest n***a she ever seen Run up in yo crib, Two K's, One Mag Yo girl get snatched like Cool J in I'm Bad Cost to live, you ain't made enough Guarantee bullet holes with a laser touch European garments drape my body if I ain't hipstered up If she smile with eye contact then the b**h will f** Homie gone make me send them k**ers after him Them n***as swing swords like Word Fence Champions You was poppin' pills and drinking liquor Now you thinkin you a gangsta k**er I leave you stankin' n***a Laid down, face down like you taking a plankin picture But I can keep the shots in the weapon Put the bat to back of your leg Grab your chin and the back of your head And twist them sh**s in opposite directions