Detroit187 lyrics

[Verse 1]
The way these b*tches on my c*ck
You'd swear it was 1985 and Teen Wolf just dropped
And my name was Michael J. Fox
But no b*tch, it's Danny Brown, I got some weed up in my sock
So b*tch, get high with your n*gga
The sack I got is lookin' like some green caterpillars
But it's smellin' like a skunk that's oh-so-defensive
These b*tches suck my di*k like it was moral incentive
I'm off the chain like broke nunchucks
From where these little n*ggas try to shoot you over new Chucks
A little dark like wet nubuck
Describe my state of mind is inside the tomb of King Tut
Murders all the time is all I see
Detroit 187 on you n*ggas' TV
And I can first degree this beat, kill a n*gga, no charges
f*ck a female MC and a pop artist
Oh, baby, I like it raw
And my di*k so big, left stretch marks on her jaw

[Verse 2]
I'm so institutionalized
I wake up at 6 AM because I think it's chow line
Borderline porcupine, a step from drinking turpentine
Just to wash down a plate of wack rappers' rhymes
I got a mind in the cosmos
And if these n*ggas cold, then I guess I'm osmosis
That be blowing on some potent that these white boys be growing
While you n*ggas smoking something smelling like a tanning lotion
Concoctions, make world-ending potions
These other n*ggas got lines, dog, I got encroachments
I get endorsements, so motherf*ck your cosigns
Punch punchlines, I'll punch rappers 'til your broke spine
'Member back in '09, told 'em it was showtime
Now they pull they cam'-phones out when I go for mine
Light, camera, action, Hybrid be snapping
'Cause the days of no tissue, had to wipe with wet napkins
Smear up the classified, know it sound trife
But to be honest, a metaphor for my life
Stop
[Verse 3: Chip$]
Buzzing off the barbiturates and amphetamines
Chased it with a forty ounce of Ready Clean
I swear I never ever smoked a better weed
Your b*tch said I'm the swaggiest n*gga she ever seen
Run up in your crib, two K's, one mag
Your girl get snatched like Cool J in "I'm Bad"
Cost to live, you ain't made enough
Guarantee bullet holes with a laser touch
European garments drape my body if I ain't hipstered up
If she smile with eye contact, then the b*tch'll f*ck
Homie gon' make me send them killers after him
Them n*ggas swing swords like World Fence Champions
You was popping pills and drinking liquor
Now you thinking you a gangster killer
I leave you stankin', n*gga
Laid down face-down like you takin' a planking picture
But I can keep the shots in the weapon
Put the bat to back of your leg
Grab your chin and the back of your head
And twist them sh*ts in opposite directions