Lyrics

Yo man Let's take this shit back to fuckin' high school lunch time cyphers When mother fuckers was beat boxin' And kickin' ill ass flows in the fuckin' cafeteria Fuck all that Hollywood shit! Let's fucking rap, man Yo, check it This that high school lunch time cypher I might just step in this bitch and fuck ya life up I hope the principal doesn't come and give me a write up Now who the fuck I gotta snatch the mic from? I spend a long time tryna build the buzz Hop is in the building, cuz Step to me up on this battlefield, you know I will erupt Didn't change, I'm still a nut The girls seen my skills are up So I be gettin' head every single night like a pillow does When a nigga be flow bashin' You know I be keepin it old fashioned My compassion is so tragic on instrumentals when I toe tag it Throw dirt on me? Then guard your face and stomach Cause I'm swinging on you like ya ass cheeks had a rope hangin' from it I'm out my mind, I can't configure it I'm way too niggerish I tried to read the Bible but I'm straight illiterate With anger temperaments I put myself in strange predicaments They labeled this as sick The doctor says to take some Ritalin Man, I'm a lunatic Rockin' a crucifix I'll mack on any chick I feel who got the cutest tits I'm wanted, fugitive Robbin' yo whip to cruise in it See, I'm the only kid on Elm Street that Freddy Krueger skipped Pants saggin' cause they too loose to fit I'm torcherous Grab a hammer and nail for your front door and board it shut I stare deep in ya eyes, rip out your soul and absorb it up And have Biggie Smalls yellin' out "call the coroner!" My groupies stay horny They always call to say "Hopsin can you fly me out to Cali? Please pay for me" I make that pussy pop for you like you skateboarding Then you can come inside like a hurricane warning I got a lot of sluts I like to call Hopsilut But now I feel like having sex with these bitches is not enough I needed something new for moments when I gotta bust So lately I've been beating my dick with a pair of boxing gloves I got the maddest rhymes How dare yo ass deny I'll stab you in the brain with a knife You can keep that in mind You talkin' shit inside yo house? Cool, fine, fuck it I'll break in and stomp you out inside of it Ain't tryna be ya friend I'll knock you out and when you wake up I'll just be standin' there with a mischievous grin Likw "Ha. We meet again" I'll puncture yo skin with a crack fiend's syringe And drill your nut sack to the seat your in You want props? You don't deserve it, you're not ill I won't stop 'til every rapper lurkin' has got chills Why these niggas actin' like they certainly pop steels When only time they carry heat is serving a hot meal Since I was young, been on a mission to make dough And put all my niggas on like this shit was a slave boat So tell me why your songs sound like skittles and rainbows? That's a dead giveaway you love and listen to Wayne bro I'm sick and deranged when I'm spitting this strange flow Stuck my dick in the game, that's the business I came for Witness my pain grow, I don't kick it with lame folks Simple and plain though, you gon remember my name ho, ha! Yo, check it This that high school lunch time cypher I might just step in this bitch and fuck ya life up I hope the principal doesn't come and give me a write up Now who the fuck I gotta snatch the mic from? I'll snatch it from anyone when I dance with Satan And detach more wigs than every female cancer patient that ever cared for a transformation With a (diss joint | disjoint) sweeter than a diabetic amputation When I split niggas, clipped quicker than big pictures Heads get bodied with a single line like a stick figure Cause my words are wild, and when I write They can't wait for the sentence like family victims of a murder trial Openly flow potently Tighter than the choke-hold needed to put the Incredible Hulk to sleep Tighter than the boatload of soldiers that stormed Normandy Tighter than the hairy twat with the Virgin Mary's ovaries They choke up like their throats cut when I show up To keep the competition (win-free | Winfrey) like Oprah Cause when I work with Hopsin, everybody who's hip Is getting (killed | kilt) like a skirt from Scotland Then I'll cock-back quicker than mouse traps And stare as they pull (outta here | out a hare) like magicians tricking with Top hats I got foreign objects That'll get you (capped in America | Captain America) like Marvel Comics With a strap like star guitarists When this lead of mine see a-head in time like Nostradamus Or swift jabs that swing left like crip flags Will be the reason you break (next | necks) like whiplash! So who the fuck wants war with this? Distorted thoughts morphed this author to Spartacus When he balls his fists around the swords he lifts with the force of a horses kick Multiplied by the reason why god exists, and makes Thor his bitch! Horror flick like imagery, organs everywhere. You would swear I was orchestrating a Symphony! It's passion, the force within him will cause the critics to look-n' drop dead like gorgeous women, hah! Yo, check it This that high school lunch time cypher I might just step in this bitch and fuck ya life up I hope the principal doesn't come and give me a write up Now who the fuck I gotta snatch the mic from? Don't get this shit confused Your not a person your delicious food No matter your place, birth, or religious views All you niggas getting chewed I eat a rapper, fitted cap first and then I spit out his tennis shoes Missing screws in my top, I don't have the patience I grab the chop and leave you niggas eradicated I never let the doctor give me shots I'm unvaccinated And I have small pox you can have a blanket Get assassinated and get left with broken bones If you go in the woods make sure you don't go alone I'm fucking bitches in a mobile home Like a mutated nigga from the hills have eyes with no Trojan on This is paranormal activity with a dagger I have paranormal tendencies y'all just a pair of normal rappers So why you talking like you not defenseless? I punch you ten times in the mouth And have your pussy asses hopping fences I got suspended for a few weeks in the 8th grade When the principal caught me on the street tryna spray paint I bought a dozen eggs from Save Way And threw threw it at the muthafuckas house on the same day You can get it the same way I'm making bitch niggas walk the plank In crocodile infested water mixed with toxic waste Bury you alive with a camera strapped across your face Then come back 2 weeks later and watch the tape You cried like a bitch trying to make the coffin break You died like a bitch instead of trying to concentrate I'm here to depopulate on the red carpet with a sniper rifle Taking out any nigga you nominate So if you see me as soon as you turn the news on Chances are I laid a nigga down like a futon While you at work dealing with groceries and coupons I got your bitch tossing my salad pass the croutons This that high school lunch time cypher I might just step in this bitch and fuck ya life up I hope the principal doesn't come and give me a write up Now who the fuck I gotta snatch the mic from? Yeah hah! Took it back to lunchtime on these muthafuckas son! Yeah, yeah, yeah Funk Volume
Writer(s): Marcus Jamal Hopson, Jaron Joel Johnson, Kyle David Gobern Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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