Atmosphere
The Future Is Disgusting
Rock the house
And you can wrap your lips around my microphone
Spread your wings and fly me home find my partner and depart the party I probably had to love you the hard way maybe we was drunk out back with the dumpster breath she know how to treat me like something spesh
Flunk the class but she pass the test she got a portrait tattoo of Funkmaster Flex
Girl I'll take you to Egypt for no reason other than skeezin' in hotels in regions that look over scenery pieces of history mixing my semen up with your secrеtions
Hot butter on my breakfast toast
She's still got thе best approach
And don't forget to check those that never be ghost
And keep your enemies close

If you was a robot I'd lick you on your touch screen
Later when you act new
I'll holler at your vacuum I think we're about to get eighty-sixed

They don't appreciate the way we kiss give a fuck what you find Inappropriate? It's not a bar, it's a church your holiness
Now let me get an ahooga
Roll up a joint look like a bazooka
All I know is they try not to show you how little they actually hold with their own two
Ayy I'm the loud balloon
I might howl at the moon in the middle of the afternoon
Never had a lot never hit a jackpot
Who wanna party with the bad bad dad bod
And I ain't got the time to wonder you never know if this will be your last summer
Now go ahead and shut your whole chapped lip pucker you bicycle seat sniffin' motherfucker