[Intro]
I'm the motherfuckin rookie of the year
Mykki Blanco
Young Castro

[Pre-verse]
We on that chill tip, real high
We feeling real loose, real fly
We on that chill tip, real high
We feelin real loose, real fly

[Verse 1]
Welcome to Hell bitches, this is Mykki Blanco
New World Order motherfucker, follow pronto
Get in line n***a
Your soul is mine n***a
You scaredy cat pussy motherfuckers can't deliver
Maybe she born with it, maybe it was Maybelline
All white Blanco give your heathen ass a christening
N***as so greasy in the daylight, he glistening
"Oh this fag can rap" yeah they saying that they listening

Pissing in the wind
At the 4-a-m spot
Blazed off the indica
A bottle of Ciroc
A mouth full of pop
Chug it in the pay phone
1-800-LOCO
Mother fuckers y'all can go home
I'm the new Rufio
Y'all ain't know
I pimp slap you bitch n***as with my limp wrist, bro
What the fuck I gotta prove to a room full of dudes
Who ain't listening to my words cuz they staring at my shoes
[Hook]
We...we we make love to the night
In the back of the club yeah we feeling alright
L-lights lights low
This shit feel crazy
Low key loose n***as know
We getting wavvy

We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy -- huh -- we getting wavvy

[Pre-verse]

[Verse 2]
I bite I bite I bite the head off a harpy
Eat these bitches alive, no water
I cry blood tears, Holy Mary, Holy Mother
Somebody get the shaman motherfucker run for cover
Blanco Blanco Blanco say it three times, Candy Man
I'm coming outta the dark with red eyes and red hands
I scalp these haters with a sickle I'm a sling blade
I'm cut-throat bitch, I cut throats bitches keep away

Now many play me for dummy, not funny
Now a bitch about to get money, they wanna love me
Tell them no no no I played that Destiny's Child
Young hearts run free, young bloods run wild (heyyy)
Green light, with a mic in my hand
I go forward into battle with a dice in my hand
One chance, one woman, seeking the truth
One truth - veiled in the illusions of youth
[Hook]

[Verse 3]
I'm bout to sour you n***as
Be that spitter shit I'm flexing all my powers on n***a
These no class trashy hood rap brat broads
Ain't got what it takes, put 'em back in training bras

Local mother fuckers, birds of a feather
If you's a dick rider you gon' dick ride forever
I said local mother fuckers, birds of a feather
If you's a dick rider you gon' dick ride forever, n***a

[Hook x2]