Songtexte

I named this one JPEG, because I like JPEG's, uh For the resolution, the color, the size of them Everything about JPEGs I like Check Narcissists, arsonists in my arsenal Got carpal tunnel 'cause I was holdin' that awkward Got the queer block, hot works, I work my mat Livin' like the early '80s and I got a sex habit Habitual bridge burners sicker than Bob's Burgers Nice with the shit since ridin' a bike on sherm Was broken and washed, didn't have change for Arnold Palmers AC broke, yayo truck was armored Now everything I drive, it ain't got no gas Late night nigga, inner city since Arctic blast Bitch body out of this world, she got a Martian ass You always with them niggas, be the sausage fest We all gonna land back to steal on a DOT's I see why you a bad rapper Get the fuck up out my face before I smack the ass backwards When you're average at life, they can't get much better, rapper "Let the truth prevail," like the King of Pop said Ain't fuck with no Percs since they found Prince dead Nigga, no cap The bitch got bald heads and you think it's all wraps 'Til them niggas all dead, old head I'm out for that hog head cheese (still) I'm a legend from Michigan like Mateen Cleaves Rest in peace Eric Garner, 'cause I can't breathe Smokin' loosey's on the same corner, used to serve fiends Servin' up a Mojito Okay, look The black Konami cheat code More Mitch than the Rico The toast mint condition like serving up a Mojito Overworked so all of my talent backs up my ego Up the score, off the rebound, and-one with the free throw Oh, she want the nerve with her, go figure Posed too hard for the image, she cropped yo' ass out the picture Gave me the leg up and that ain't even a kicker Dropped SCARING THE HOES, end' up terrifying the nigge r, wait I got this down to a T, sharp as a crewcut, uh Tables turn like Serato with death queued up Y'all made a race, so I did the mechanic suit up And I drive sum' crazy whenever the autotune's up Put Tony on the mic like Pacino Good fella with the lines, bangin' like De Niro, wait Let's get this clear yo, the flows is a-blazin' Don't slip, don't slack, now Rothstein in Casino Ayy, let me get that one back Uh Men lie, women lie, but the numbers don't With no machines, so my numbers go where your numbers won't Nasty
Writer(s): Danny Brown, Jpegmafia Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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