CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : ISIS - Remix
Uh
Imma catch a vibe on 'em
Flippin' and rappin' going supersonic top five
Yeah
Artifalogical, my god, on the mic, god
For Spotify the iPods, I been an Icone's
As I was f**kin' stay at home
Mom's a night long's Tyson
Santa, the kan, the bike's strikin' like pythons
Guess Imma motherf**ker, yeah
But I'm undercover like pipe bombs
I hit you by cops, subliminal type rhymes
The mic, never signin' the black line
They can't find a reason for that why
A rap bine, rather get mine, in the back 9
The last time, I was in that bine, the flat line
And my rap mind, just a past time
Lookin' a king in the block
Now that I'm bringin' the sh*t
Foldin' the clip in the Glocks
Still never givin' a sh*t
Hittin' a swing in the mist
Spittin' the sh*t for the kids
Kiffin' this burb in the b*t*h
I am suburban the sh*t
But I still murder the sh*t
This 'bout as good as it gets
I wrote this sh*t in a sec
This beat I hit it like sex
I've just entered the seventh level of hell, the devil
Mama, made it out the ghetto
So how the f**k could I not be the illest when I feel like a villain
Killin' anybody at will? I'm villainous, still a gorilla
I'm pillagin' villages and buildings, pavilions, King Kong
I'm pro'bly makin' a song for Kim Jong
So ching-chong, kiddies sing-along as I'm rippin' about the quickest
Yeah, when I'm pickin' apart the rap and I put the pen the pad
And Peter Piper pickin' a pickled pepper, Peter, I picked it next
I figure that I'm commin' this straight, just sh*ttin' tracks I run it back
I bet a houndred stacks I could be chokin' a runnin' back
Imma catch a vibe on 'em
Flippin' and rappin' going supersonic top five
Yeah
Artifalogical, my god, on the mic, god
For Spotify the iPods, I been an Icone's
As I was f**kin' stay at home
Mom's a night long's Tyson
Santa, the kan, the bike's strikin' like pythons
Guess Imma motherf**ker, yeah
But I'm undercover like pipe bombs
I hit you by cops, subliminal type rhymes
The mic, never signin' the black line
They can't find a reason for that why
A rap bine, rather get mine, in the back 9
The last time, I was in that bine, the flat line
And my rap mind, just a past time
Lookin' a king in the block
Now that I'm bringin' the sh*t
Foldin' the clip in the Glocks
Still never givin' a sh*t
Hittin' a swing in the mist
Spittin' the sh*t for the kids
Kiffin' this burb in the b*t*h
I am suburban the sh*t
But I still murder the sh*t
This 'bout as good as it gets
I wrote this sh*t in a sec
This beat I hit it like sex
I've just entered the seventh level of hell, the devil
Mama, made it out the ghetto
So how the f**k could I not be the illest when I feel like a villain
Killin' anybody at will? I'm villainous, still a gorilla
I'm pillagin' villages and buildings, pavilions, King Kong
I'm pro'bly makin' a song for Kim Jong
So ching-chong, kiddies sing-along as I'm rippin' about the quickest
Yeah, when I'm pickin' apart the rap and I put the pen the pad
And Peter Piper pickin' a pickled pepper, Peter, I picked it next
I figure that I'm commin' this straight, just sh*ttin' tracks I run it back
I bet a houndred stacks I could be chokin' a runnin' back
