Upper Management - No Smoking in the House lyrics

[Intro] No smoking in the house There's no smoking in the house So would you please put it out [Verse] I'm the animal nobody knows about like a lemur That might wild the f** out, and kick you in the femur Your girl said she a dreamer I told her the closest she gon' get to that rock 'n' roll fame is this Cleveland steamer Urban Dictionary that Your b**h is very fat On this dick is where she at And to think you thought she was a church girl Well she just gave her hotel information to my merch girl Comfort Inn, room 703 Old school, no card just a regular key Most of America ain't checking for me Cause even my dumb sh** is too much for 'em intellectually So I'm, unappreciated like a ba** solo K Solo, or a p**n star's face photo Get out of Kansas and visit some other states, Toto Start following Drake's motto or stay so-so I was rhyming on the track Way back when your mother's hymen was intact Yo you probably shouldn't rap cause your words are wack You need to find yourself a Cyrano de Bergerac Or maybe you need to give up You repeatedly s** You in the league of a duck You a measly schmuck If you was speedily struck by a GMC truck I wouldn't give one flying sixteenth of a f**, nada As far as new rappers I don't like none of 'em I could single-handedly dismantle every one of 'em I make fun of 'em and give zero f**s I hate whoever you like, I think your hero s**s I send 'em a, old-fashioned "f** you" like middle fingers Thrown up by little old ladies with brittle fingers Deadly like them little stingers on top of a scorpion Or being at an appointment with Dr. Kevorkian I make the best polka player drop his accordion I make the best poker player stop with the tournaments And switch to nickel slots at the Orleans You wanna f** with me you best cop a DeLorean And go back in time and find the first time my young mind was inclined to rhyme And feed it cyanide And I know this a rhyme not a diatribe But you are inscribed on the list of people I am not inspired by I rap considerably well So if you're considered hot then consider me hell I've been cracked for awhile like the Liberty Bell You're a story of regret people bitterly tell You done nothing cool You're a f**ing fool You're an example of the failure of the American public school Yo I will whoop your small fry a** And then I'll mount you on my mantle like a walleye ba** But honestly I want peace, like Gandhi's dream But when I see these wack rappers I get oddly mean If I see 'em on my screen, I'll probably scream It makes me want to turn the game to a zombie scene Leg sweep 'em til they topple like a Ponzi scheme I mix the old and the new, I'm a Fonzie meme I'm a dubstep version of the Cosby theme An iPhone 6 case that's Bing Crosby themed A cross between Nas and Gene Krupa My team super You's an oompa loompa Whose sweeter than a Chupa Chup bruh Know what you should do bruh? Go to Islamabad Stand in the promenade and scream "Muhammad's not a god" Aww Aren't you cute? Kneeling in the desert in that orange jumpsuit I'll probably see you next when we're in hell I'll be selling portable fans Holler if you need an extra Duracell Cause I'mma sell those too I'll be the reason hell's hot and that hell froze too Give a f** who you know or who the hell knows you You got the type of face people put elbows through With no strings attached like a velcro shoe Or how Run DMC wore the shell-toed shoe When I rap I take you back to when it felt so new With loads of hot goo I will pelt yo boo It goes, shot shot shot! Like Mario Lemieux Middle of the nipple and the areola too Prepare to roll a few when my album leak And make like a falcon beak atop a mountain peak that chirps how Alvin speaks My voice projects, in an old school way Like overheads And goes over heads Well of course over your head's where my lyricism's going When your head level's so low it appears that you're limboing Never tip-toeing I'm a book that's ripped open The lettering is blotchy with burn holes from smoking You say no regrets I say you must be joking I squandered a lot so now I ponder a lot, like That opportunity, could've surely paid off Could've been big in the biz like Irving Azoff Get away with more loot than Bernie Madoff Dolphin face plates I'd be eating birthday cake off But I ain't tryna let them guys in suits Walk all over me like Thai ma**euses Hollywood is full of rich, fat, old dudes Pointing at their trophy wives like "I met that b**h at Whole Foods" They say things like "let's be in touch" And get nothing but the finger like when lesbians touch I don't walk around town as a pedestrian much I don't place value on trophies thespians clutch Not a bat of the eyes at the academy prize The hype's horse sh** The flattery's lies So if your mic's cordless I hope your battery dies It's that type of performance I badly despise Tell a critic write a song Tell a blogger to perform it live They'd have better luck playing Frogger on the 405 You don't stand on any ground on which to base judgments Or stand underground as if you judge basements Your list make these rappers conceited High up in the ranks when they should be unseated They overrated like french fries at In-N-Out Or some other sh** that I don't give a f**ing sh** about You bloody marks are all snark I can see you sippin' Cutty Sark in a golf cart So meet me at the hipster bar and have a pickle back shot I f**ed your sister in her car back when Nickelback was hot Back when me and Herbs would just kick it at the spot With a 40 ounce of Mickies and a nickel sack of pot But it's different now In certain kinds of ways Except that we still be blurting lines for days And stepping out of that purple kind of haze Only thing changed is the phrase "no smoking in the house" [Outro - Wax & Herbal T] No smoking in the house (x5) Please put it out, please put it out Y'all little like Ford Fiats Every track we drop are Basquiats You biotch You little like Ford Fiats The tracks we drop are Basquiats You biotch We tall like pogo and Pau Gasol Y'all bring beef like it's Fogo de Chão involved [Herbal T] 2015! Wax and Herbal T! We in this b**h! [Hook] When we was little we was standing in the middle Of the court and off we took Pledge Allegiance to the funk in every region where The left hand's on the book We stick together like bird's of a feather Cause we are family And ain't a damn thing changed Except for one new policy [Bridge] There's no smoking in the house (No smoking in the house) - x1 No smoking in the house (No smoking in the house) - x3 No Smoking in the house [Interlude] You gotta respect the children The seeds of the funk trees Let them decide for themselves what kind of poisonous Nonsense they wanna put in their lungs As for myself I be smoking moonrocks And I'm high as a motherf**er Wax and Herbal T guide me through this absurd thing Called life And I am thankful for the funkith they giveith Let's do this baby [Hook] When we was little we was standing in the middle Of the court and off we took (we gotta take off) Pledge Allegiance to the funk in every region where The left hand's on the book (left hand's on the book, yeah) We stick together like bird's of a feather Cause we are family (family) And ain't a damn thing changed Except for just one new policy There's no smoking in the house [Outro Verse] Because now there's children there, I just wanna pay My debts off without a bill to spare Whether I'm a tax attorney of a giant billionaire or I Practice taxidermy and my client k**ed a bear I just don't have the will to care and I always say I'll wait till tomorrow like I'm Silverchair Change - change - change my mind repeats Sounding like a scratched vinyl record of an old Obama Speech One last record made I'll quit the touring life, then I'll go get domesticated with a boring wife People say "His career really took off when he stopped Rapping and entered that chili cookoff" He really took the golf nasty with a pitching wedge [?] As I tell my lame friends about my son's grades, but One day it's back to the bottle Fall off the wagon, horsepower: full throttle, cause living With sobriety's excruciating pain And the thing I desire's a hallucinating brain, I'll even get A tribal doctor to vouch Ayahuasca on the couch next to Oscar the Grouch Enough Molly to probably convert my posture to slouch Sit right sh** right into a colostomy pouch Senior citizen livin' off moonshine and pizza Hookers at noontime, mainline Levitra And when I finally develop emphysema I'll buy a shotgun for permanent anesthesia It won't matter I'm an organ donor Hunched over in the corner when the coroner comes over And sees me covered in blood like a maniac's bib After treating a baby like a baby back rib As he looks around at my insanely whack crib And it looks like a place where someone who smoked crack lived He sees writings on the wall looking like mad-libs Nonsensical Rhymes paranthetical ad-libs As he sees the whole scene it flashes His mind rehashes where he [?] Blood splashes The coffee table gla** crashes But he ain't gonna see no ashes No smoking in the house [Outro Hook] Don't even waste my time I ain't the patient kind You must be out your mind Telling me them f**ing lies