L-chronic - Pound cake(freestyle) lyrics

[LTO] Pound cake straight exelarater no brake in game never been the same crossing no lane this the true meaning of globalisation man by nature no initiation wrap the gift writing raps night shift endless to the end this money im gona spend over the corner of a hangover the night is still young so im recording a song room got no improvement only thing tidy is my talent hirsty gang that sh** the real bang spill the cake im going insane vanish like a dirty stain damn im over my limit like mustangs this n******gs lame like arangetangs this freestyle make your girl smile so imagine my own song im doing nothing wrong just check my eith beamer n***a [verse 1:G-hirsty ] I get high in Ohio f**en' coke and a smile Devil reading the bible Reverends triggered the rifle Animal heads important to the back yard again Bury the Backyardigans Blood covers my bu*ton up in step fathers cardigan Erect a pistol, eject a clip full of missiles A bodybag, to clean the gory issue Closed casket, f*ggot, burn the house down with you End this sh** to end this sh** Does heaven have a membership? Because I pick up angels by a pistol whip This time she's so beautiful and me Unusual to see Shove her in the trunk, you can go with me You like my FreshJive shirt, well I can give you one for free Cause' when I wished for it I found me on a k**in' spree ...Just leave up to me [Verse 2: G-hirsty] My mom caught jackin' off to Hannah Montana with a banana peel Sippin' a cherry Fanta to match my dress and my purple heels Looking like I'm Santa but skinny in a black weave, it's real In a stolen truck with my license to k** I tell em' "I'm Frank from Montana, the king of the hill" Except I'm a n***a from the junk yard gang Bill Cosby couldn't spot me if I copied a duck in a bill Simply cause' I do not give a f** like virginity Illmatic with the tactics I do not give a f** how you feel, I got wolf I flow backwards like heat when it chills on a thermometer I skate, and rap, a compose'n photographers Back like a black b**hes hairline, kilometer Hotter than Madonna Doo-doo mama back-up dancers with the windows rolled up inside the Honda driving through Nevada during summer Tyler comma the Creator is a f**ing animal, I'm such spitting like a llama n***a