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russell! - hot guacamole (freestyle) lyrics
fresh up out my moms vag, new ring on, lebron swag//
teachers told me i was dumb, i’d have an odd future no golf w-ng//
they all up on my case, i swear the case was closed for-a-long-time//
k!llin em, stealing hearts, huge dude, committing small crimes//
lyrics crazy, appearence maybe, protection on-i got a fear for babies//
grabbed the freaking game and danced dirty, im so weirdly swayze//
50 bucks is my networth, 100 songs, i k!lled that//
still-tryna-get-my-mill-stacked, got a duck face, but no real quack//
the-realest-up-in-it-the-public-will-know//
ive-been-k!llin-the-rhythem-untouch-a-ble-flow//
i-be-all-in-her-bed-ted-dy-rux-pin-the-flow//
got-the-rap-pers-all-scared-like-i-summoned-a-ghost//
try to find a better ch-nky weirdo in the burbs//
that can flow-a-little-better-than-the-kid-that-you-be-hearin//
..i-know-the-people-really-arent-fearin-my-appearence//
but im silly with the flow, really im a pro//
got a macbook, full of naked chicks//
black, white, brown, and asian chicks//
cele-britys, your favorite chicks
even-the-girls-up-in-your-school you study majors with//
and no my dude, i-ain’t stanky rich//
i dont needa care bout your visa fare//
im a sp-ce-bound guy, i dont need your air//
i got the swag of 2chainz with some bieber hair//
give em one slap, one slap//
my girl thicker than a mexicano mustasche//
sharper than a needle or a thumbtack//
and got these ol’ heads wondering like “whats that”//
i’m skrillex, with ch-nky eyes, yo girl call me mister pride//
5’6, a little guy, they tried to k!ll me, i’m still alive//
i’m so cold boy just watch me, i’m dope so, yeah i’m c-cky//
tryna tell me i ain’t sick-is like saying yolo to a zombie//
i just walked in looking like i just got fired from my job//
scuffed up reeboks with a tank-top got your wifey on my rod//
they say prizzy you ain’t broke, you be lyin’ cause you not//
man i got 20-cents in my checking boooy, get right up off my kn-b//
made a job off what i day-dreamed bout in highschool, it-came-to-life//
rappers sending shots? (shots), sorry bro you’re not aiming-right//
shaq ballin i’m bad at free throws, throwing money like dan marino//
showin up to these huge meetings all half asleep, with a bag of cheetos//
they tell me i ain’t hip-hop, h-ll yeah i ain’t hip-hop//
that’s why i got like 90k on my mixtape and yo ish flopped-
sick and please set the scale, rippin frees, never fail//
if you ain’t here smi-lin, lose your virginity to a whale//
man shout outs to all my fans, you dun held me down//
never thought i’d get like-this-much-love-from somewhere outta town//
i be
still on the grind-even-though-i-went-pop
and-i-still-got-these-old-er-girls-all-on-my-kn-b
you-keep-sayin-im-main-stream-i-dont-real-ly-care
got-my-mid-le-finger-gone-all up in the air//
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