Lyrics : What’s Poppin (Remix)

Pooh doh, you da G.O.A.T., boy

Hi y’all
Pop out this b*t*h like an eyeball
My flow is nasty, I am the sh*t, spray a n***a down with some Lysol
Open your heart, my flow is dark
Somebody just turned the lights off
Well, open your eyes
Oh my God, that’s over your head like a fly ball
Or the bright sky when the night falls
I forgot I’m Crypt, that’s Kufis, we nice y’all (Ah)
f**k with me, get screwed like drywalls
Playing with these other rappers like they were my dolls (Huh?)
Get 'em Midol (Ha)
‘Cause their pussies get hurt, but why y’all?
Why? They got tight draws?
Well dog, because
When I spit, all the ladies get wet
But when they spit, all the ladies get dry walls (Haha)
It seems these days that people are lovin' to hate me (Yeah)
Pinning me against all of my peers like a wave (Yeah)
Keep on pushin' that narrative, but if you get to comparin' us
I leave you aware that you’ll be pushin' up daisies
I’m wavey, look how I’m cruisin' this sh*t (Yeah)
I ain’t new to this sh*t (I'm not)
Dawg you think that you ballin' (Okay)
That get you neutered and sh*t (Woof, woof)
I just be paintin' picture with my words, you just be doodlin' sh*t
b*t*hes be catfishin' on the gram and n***as be noodlin' sh*t
See, this is as cool as it get (How?)
Hunit Kufi and Crypt (Hi)
Can’t name another two rappers better that’s actually doin' this sh*t
I don’t care who your favorite rapper is
f**k the acronyms, he ain’t the G.O.A.T
I don’t know what the f**k you want from me
But I do know that it ain’t the smoke
Keep on thinking that you can lyrically hang with me and I’m have to give you the rope
They don’t even know that my flow so heavy
If I spit off a boat you couldn’t get it to float
You shouldn’t get us provoked, b*t*h, you think that this a joke?
Boy, we do this sh*t for real, you just do it for the show
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But hollow points put a hole through your dome
Yeah, we gold off the top like we’re poppin' Modelos
Pass me the rock like Stockton, I’m Mello
At the top of the key when the clocks at three
Get crossed, your legs wobble like Jello
Hello, at your front door with the shovel
I just wanna talk, I’m calm and mellow
It ain’t my fault if he cause some trouble
Homie a rat, he dying to tell-o
Donatello? Ain’t that a turtle?
Yeah man, his headbands quite purple
But I meant that he gon' tell on dudes
When they pull up on him and threaten to hurt ‘em
This is the way you make it the greatest
The way you wake up the neighbors
The way the say it’s debated
They hate to say we the favorite
The minute you making paper they all up in your faces, like
Crypt, can you buy me a plate of steak and potatoes?
A plate of steak and potatoes
You b*t*hes think that I’m famous and makin' a ton of paper
But even if that was the case, I do not owe you any favors
Time to put you in your place
So all you pu**y talking people better pray that I tame my own pace
I’m bout to pave my own wave right to the main stage
It’s your own ass fault if you ain’t this great (Yo)
f**k all this melodic sh*t, I’m a take a Klonopin
And write a rhyme sick enough to be ending all of these viruses
And ride around with Kufis
Ain’t nobody going to shoot me unless it is in a movie-