Grinder lyrics

[Sample]
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who the thinnest of them all?
Not you, Theodore!

[Verse 1: Kill Bill]
Watch me kill this sh*t, b*tch I'm still legit
Twenty-two without a f*ck to give about you chicken sh*ts
Mister kill-a-lot, city of ash, I killed a pot
I can't tell what's real or not, boiling room with the chicken stock
Break 'em down to their enzymes, this sh*t's live
Exo music creatures in this b*tch, we are the fifth kind
I told you motherf*ckers, this about the fifth time
I do this music sh*t for me, 'cause face it, this sh*t's mine
I like your f*ckin' style and that's because you bit mine
You swines salty, get up off the pig rinds
Crush, kill, destroy, don't give a f*ck, skill deploy
You f*ckin' suck, kill your boys, you gassed up, you fags suck
Vegito go fused with Captain Nemo flow, I
Done been bald, exhalin' chemo dro
[?] vision with your foresights been peephole slow
I sensed my time to shine and gripped it like a needle nose
Pliers set, gas fumes and lighter necks
Smoke this sh*t, ignite your chest, my devil's tryna buy a dress
And Yeezy-yeez, I don't buckle, got Vegita's knees
Gas and chain swangin', keep a burner just to keep the peace
And no Bunsen, catch me smokin' out your function
KubrixXx break these rappers off with somethin'
b*tch, I'm stuntin'
[Verse 2: Rav]
Make your mother's butt bleed, guess who's back, ho
KubrixXx, Kill Bill R-ti-ka ti-ka ti-ka-av, ho
Disconnect your disc, cassette, or vinyl
You're ticking at your spinal
[?] you've no eyeballs
Can't see me, b*tch on the TV, b*tch 'cause they label me as frightful
Aw, that Metal Slug gon X you out like a Skype call
Got these kids smokin' blunts, poppin' Vicos
Not listenin' to their folks, I guess it's my fault, aw
New kids on the block runnin' the playground, EXO
We run this b*tch, it's sorta like a greyhound expo
Whenever you've kissed a girl, you've made out my ex ho
So that's my di*k you taste, uh, that's my kids you taste, uh
Rav dumps his b*tches in the c-section
I'm makin' hit after hit after hit like a weed session
Keep that grinder in the pocket of my hoodie
I'm at your funeral, about to spark another doobie, uh
You cannot move me, this is not a f*ckin' movie
I'm rockin' baggy clothes because I'm pocketing an Uzi, uh
And they can't tell whether which the real me or just satire
But one thing they know for sure, I ain't no pacifier
Look, b*tch, just pass the fire