Nine!
I keep a nine tucked away like a child predator - ew
Nah for real I'm staying out of touch with the kids
like a Walmart in the Metaverse
I made a verse and murdered it, worded it funny
Cause I'm articulate, wordy and nerdy
I'm Fred Durst
Yeah I'm sticking with the OG's/Oh Jeez! like what Morty says
Made a couple songs that got some numbers now I'm bored again
Split a pussy like a spliff, we light em up
Let's get to business
If a bitch ain talking sense/cents I wonder why the fuck we talking then
Fuck a wack rapper, too much rhyme but got no rhythm
Old as fuck up on the shelf, they just stale crackers in the algorithm
Ahem, dropping bars like a bad dealer
Can you feel me?
Can you feel it/filet?
Like mignon up in the skillet
Or when I be spitting shit just like a frat kid with the clitoris
Who missing it abysmally
I slay Queen
Like HIV to Freddie Mercury
So grab some bottle caps, you'll need some currency b
We on the mic, when I Fallout there'll be a brand new game to beat
Intricate visions of infinite wisdom
I spit cinnamon synonyms spinnin' in cyclicus, making words up
I go so retarded I might have to lift my shirt up
and scream till the birds jump
Money stacked higher than my first blunt
On the list of rappers I think you might be the worst one
Ain't no fuckin nepotism, bitch I really earned sum
Rap about regression I got everybody turnt up
Whole building crumbling down bitch
I live in the stumbling sound bitch
Barricades surround whenever I come to town
Fuck my accountant, I hope that bitch steal every pound
This shits goin down, gotta be ready, you finna drown
I burn it down like the ghost ship in Oakland
People will take anything that they can stick they nose in
Fuck a shooting range, pussy, I'm sprayin in the open
I ain't had no motherfuckin choice I am the chosen
Fuck you mean?
Nah for real I'm staying out of touch with the kids
like a Walmart in the Metaverse
I made a verse and murdered it, worded it funny
Cause I'm articulate, wordy and nerdy
I'm Fred Durst
Yeah I'm sticking with the OG's/Oh Jeez! like what Morty says
Made a couple songs that got some numbers now I'm bored again
Split a pussy like a spliff, we light em up
Let's get to business
If a bitch ain talking sense/cents I wonder why the fuck we talking then
Fuck a wack rapper, too much rhyme but got no rhythm
Old as fuck up on the shelf, they just stale crackers in the algorithm
Ahem, dropping bars like a bad dealer
Can you feel me?
Can you feel it/filet?
Like mignon up in the skillet
Or when I be spitting shit just like a frat kid with the clitoris
Who missing it abysmally
I slay Queen
Like HIV to Freddie Mercury
So grab some bottle caps, you'll need some currency b
We on the mic, when I Fallout there'll be a brand new game to beat
Intricate visions of infinite wisdom
I spit cinnamon synonyms spinnin' in cyclicus, making words up
I go so retarded I might have to lift my shirt up
and scream till the birds jump
Money stacked higher than my first blunt
On the list of rappers I think you might be the worst one
Ain't no fuckin nepotism, bitch I really earned sum
Rap about regression I got everybody turnt up
Whole building crumbling down bitch
I live in the stumbling sound bitch
Barricades surround whenever I come to town
Fuck my accountant, I hope that bitch steal every pound
This shits goin down, gotta be ready, you finna drown
I burn it down like the ghost ship in Oakland
People will take anything that they can stick they nose in
Fuck a shooting range, pussy, I'm sprayin in the open
I ain't had no motherfuckin choice I am the chosen
Fuck you mean?
Credits
Writer(s): Nathan Buchanan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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