Lyrical Genius lyrics

by

Tyler, The Creator


[Hook: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Lyrically nutsack I’m, untouchable, uncrushable
Blunted in a 600, blunted in a 600
Untouchable, uncrushable
Blunted in a 600 ass shots and di*k pops , blunted in a 600

[Verse 1: B.THE GREAT]
I ain't cutting slack, because lazy n*ggas is wack
Like an artist on they break, I draw back in
My pistol hit spines, I aim, draw backs in
Shoot a n*gga, pitch black, pull up a black Cadillac
A n*gga bumping the hard rock sh*t, look like a humpback
Round two, my b*tches I hump back, you pussies
Really wanna fight back, I don't think so
Try to run, and hide, you ain't keeping kinko
Like I just came in with sauce, ooh
I came in like a boss, boo
This sh*t is only sh*t for five year old's
These n*ggas rap sound like they have a foot in they mouth
And they closing they noses, uhh
If a n*gga rap to me, expect I get bored
Wanna beach house with a truck
Contort a twisted moral, whores, still spitting a later day
Cut the beef, I slice the cow, with a razor blade
You my son, so like when the summer come
You still offspring, you jumping you don't have to deal with me
b*tch, please, b*tches popping M&M's in the hood
We call it life, unless we have to start selling packs
Of weeds, cutting for new grass and life
I makes lips blow, like accident lipo
Wet from the wrist and clothes, I just water hoes
What I behold, cold flows, like Arctic floor stores
Go solo, cause as soon as I drop singles
I got a mormon posse bro, uh

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Truth a truce and you daring to dare doubt
But you breathing in insecurities, no gun ain't gonna air that out
Left wrist want a AP, test my class, you ain't AP
Touch the game, like A P P and kill it, A S A P
My wave ain't hard to see, you can read it in braille
Read it, and tell, you'll hear my verses in the scorches of hell
I wrote this and fell, I'm dumb when I spit
The saliva is real, here to kill locksmiths on both knees
I'm low key, so you inhale, so n*ggas breath
Seal there, B is just a master like a widow he at his peek
Let these instrumentals sinking like the pool was 6 feet
Reap what I sow, and hunt what I eat
I rest my case, like a sleeping lawyer
This my world, I made it, black Tom Sawyer
Wicked as Aleister, banish ya, I'm the GOAT
Baphomet believer, fly as angel wings
But n*ggas whine about they bread like the feast of Jesus
Say this a hard egg to crack, hoe this the yolk
Who you fooling, I'm the ruler, I just happen
To measure my flow, when I do it
To do this, it ain't much to do
I split the game in two, and n*ggas act
Like they have no care in the world
Like a class had a substitute, dude
Due to anger management, I have to make sure
When I spit I don't go on murderous splurges
Of slurs, and disbandment, so when I get to the point
And like bombs, get ticked off, then I better not
Hear somebody say "what the f*ck do we do wrong?"
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