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roof pigz - 103 tabernacle lyrics
[intro: capitol hayche]
uuuugghhhh
my name is cameron
whoo
finna buppabuppah in this buppabuppah, uh!
verse 1: capitol hayche]
i might hit you with a skull, hit you with this ball
you bustas all suck, who you gonna call? (ghost bustas)
delivering the hoes like some mail
i fail at not getting on that hot snail
my pail is full of rain, gang drugs p-ssy so insane
beat that snitch like i beat an egg for my pancakes in the d-mn morning
take it to the grave; backpack, hoe goes in the knapsack
whack back like a crack addict, making big bills like bo baggins
i’m swagging in your hoe’s stuff like a thing
i’m not rich homie tell me that’s a dream
so much ice ’bout to make a thugga sing
all up in your hoe, all up in your bird
i think a homie bought a skirt, homie looking scared
i’m a homeowner, you a h0m- nerd
pulling in the cabbage and i’m laughing
put my trap in a cabin, keep it cracking ’till eleven
i’m pulling in the cabbage like i’m making salad, uh
p-ssy looking kind of ragged from my naked talent, uh
big d-ck, so big it looks like a kraken
the cabin still popping, clock at half past eleven
i got two hoes riding my face
and a big old smile in my face
i’ve seen more p-ssy than any midwife
i think god wants me to live the good life
[hook: young zesty]
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
[verse 2: young zesty]
where’s the p-n-s on a snowman? how come no one gives him elbows?
don’t they freeze without a jacket? going in snow and slinging packets
realize real lies, real eyes see; how come it don’t snow for me?
i want to make me a snowman too, and run into some caribou
missing all of my wintertime; man, wonderland doing a lot of [?]
like the guys in jungles with that river, i imply below equators
ain’t no snow in tropics, so they learned to make their own
tahpside, roof pigz started picking all night long
tilty got the draeger and the key into your home (egh)
lemon boy i play with bullets and i shoot you off your throne (pew pew pew)
we’ve been trapping at sea (skrt), cooking up and napping (egh)
dj l9f all met then poppy, now they want to copy
now they want to copy, now she do it sloppy microwaving
hot pockets in pajama pants; no pork, i eat cow instead (bling, egh)
catch me selling drugs and such
i been on that bus, i been driving down that road (skrrt)
one way ticket to the fake rap throne
payment for the ride is a bottle of patrón
catch me with my homies in the trap (yeah)
bad seeds make bad apples, 103 tabernacle
one take
[verse 3: capitol hayche]
capitol hayche
exit sign, ugh
delve into the p-ssy like i’m spelunking
the ball spelunk that net when i’m dunking
my wallet spelunk my pocket and its full of dollars
and my gang clique homies spelunk my ballers (man tell ’em)
i just spelunked that -ss for the fifth time today
b-tch finna skrrt on a hoe like (fart noise) haha!
man, i’m sipping that drank and i’m spilling that lunch
shoot a tree in a trunk, watch me stealing that stump
i’m a real g homie, make it upercase (bow)
pulling out of hoes like (fart noise) hahaha!
funny fart sounds, call a [?] -ss b-tch [?] b-tch
stuck a d-ck in her slit, p-ss, shish kabob a b-tches dog
i’m popping ritalin like he who shall not be named
y’all b-tches only win when me is off my game
suck -ss, p-ssy hoe, talk to my lawyer, ho
young coconut in that all [?] pineapple, yeah
[interlude]
(guffawing)
that was so good!
oh my god!
[hook: young zesty]
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
[verse 4: lil tilty]
more bucks, porsche trucks, your wh0r- sucks, mines better, nine jettas
drive to kenya, at the church with nine berettas, ’bout to marry a russian pop star
pull up in a cop car at the bank, rob that sh-t, watching a little hobbit 6
got eight communists peeing on my bed i call it octop-ss
shoutout donald trimp, shoutout all the shrimp; happy feet, stab a beat
shoutout [?], frick your girl on a workday
go to sp-ce on earthday, got your grandma twerking
don’t care which one of the two, whichever one is your favorite
go to your house and egg it, i take your mouse and bake it
got your spouse, she naked, me and my goons we naked
pull up on you with a fake b-tch, i ain’t talking fake b00bs or fake t-ts
i’m talking not a human, like a mannequin
[?] coming with the raps i spit
my girl from denmark just like hamlet b-tch got a pen mark on my
dolce & gabbana kicks, i tossed those sh-ts in the fricking trash
tell the cops i don’t give an -ss, money stacked to the freaking moon
got your girl in her underwear, made an id say, “under where?”
corn dust make my vision blurry, punch an irish n-gga back to tipperary
b-tch i’m hairy (yeah and i got a canker sore too!)
uuugghh
[hook: young zesty]
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
wannabes, wannabes, bumblebees, bumblebees; one of these things
doesn’t seem to be comparable with the other thing, i’ve been wandering
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