Lyrics

I’m somewhere gone,
far far away,
in a land where there’s a lot of words you just can’t say,
or they’ll have your head,
straight sliced from its stump, lumberjacking with a former Fed, hey!

you can’t do that!
no, no!
you can’t do that!

can’t do what!?

write anything about a fed, a Fed’s a rat,
the Fed’s a buster!

THE BUSTER HAD MY BACK!

“oh wow, now she’s a toretto…”

Loyalty of Letty indeed,
Pop a pussy with this prowess,
leave a stripe looking like they’re burnt out,
peel the rubber back as I taste the oil soaking someone’s shaft,
a trans mission,
existence,
I walk amongst the Family leading a true resistance,
in a purple Datsun Dashin’ for a dollar so I can take a Dom Dancin’,

“A purple Datsun!?”

With a big ole Billy G.O.A.T.
Shmokin’ Shweed from a Swisher till we cough and cannot breathe,
and,
every single thing we say burns hot until a soul seethes,
a soul bleeds,
a soul dies,
another screams…
another cries, likely,
over the latter’s lost dreams,
a stepping stone to success is accepting not all will fit at the table where y’all eat,
don’t think for one second,
things are any type of sweet.
I write rhymes,
Sis a baker but a sugar coated sentence is something neither of us need.
So,
step back Nowitzki,
and free Durk,
years of wearing a wire…
what a shame,
this isn’t even shady,
it’s just a buncha slimy dirt…

And the Choir sings…

May He Rest in Peace,
Laid to Eternal Sleep…
May He Rest in Peace…
Rat Trapped Chasing Cheese…

We Pray…

May He Rot in Pieces,
Never Laid to Sleep…
May He Rot in Pieces…
Rat Popped over that, Parmesan Cheese…

Parmesan Cheese…
Sprinkles…
Intestional Spaghetti…
Blood Splatter…
It’s Red Pepper Confetti!
This is Sadistic…
Psychosis Aplenty!

Watch the Mrs. Dash!!
Yeahhh!
Watch the Mrs. Dash!!

Ohh woah…

City say,
“Oh, Oh Dear God No…”

Bodyyy,
It hits the flooor…

Sandwiched,
in a JIF, Skippy,
today I’m P.B.
I declare,
We don’t need no Damn Jam.

Don’t need no Damn, Jam.
Oh, Say no, we don’t rock with THAT jam.

Wire, Wire, you speaking like this?
Wire, Wire, you so conniving?
Wire, Wire, you making threats of unaliving?
Wire, Wire, I’m a mirror, I reflect a rotten liar…

Ohhhh…

Alright!
Understood!
Roger Dodger!
Bat Swung!
Home Run like an Astro…Bomber…
Dingers for days…
Bat Swung!
Strike out! No Plays…
What a…Jam!
Issa Jam!
Peanut Butter, Peanut Butter, Crunch!
Broken Hand! HaHaaa!
Crunch!
Two Broken Hands!!
Argh argh argh!
Hardy Har Hard!
I’m a lyrical miracle spitting satirical harm!

Don’t think for a second I’m unarmed…
I have two, but honestly, banana biceps, both bruised…
heh…

You’re in a Jam, Skippy.

shouldn’t have snitched…

whatchu gonna do?