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"Rap Demon (Rap Devil Remix)"

Like, this whole country rap thing, I don't get it, man
It’s like not even real music, there's no real lyricists or nothin'
So, I don’t know why he's wastin' his time, you know

Shut up and sit down, motherf**ker (Yeah)
Country rap is in this (Yo) b*t*h now!

Country rap just got hip tossed
Then swiftly hit in it's thick jaw
I wanna play some f**kin' games
Gonna change my rap name to Jigsaw (Uh huh)
'Cause I just wanna get big y'all
Work my way to the big stars (Alright)
Then tell 'em all to go f**k themself
I voted Trump and built big walls (Check)
Got a big mouth and big balls
Comin’ up to the mic in overalls
’Cause I'm sick of gettin’ looked over
With my farmer's tan and my southern drawl (Hey y'all)
That's why my songs are a f**kin’ brawl
Like Road House, take the jokes out
I'm a generous guy, givin' mo' clout
Which one is it y'all don't know about (Easy)
'Cause I'll chew 'em up and I'll spit 'em out
Like uncooked meat at a steakhouse
Then tell the person who made this crap
I'ma need to get my refund now (Sorry)
I'm feelin' inspired by the gunner's bullets
Even though my boots don't lace up
It's R.H.E.C., E.S.T.​
Mr. Cheatham County don't change up
Dirty white boy from a one horse town
Got everybody lookin' like, "Dang, son!"
And I'm feelin' like an atomic bomb
And I'm blowin' up my accomplishments
Hollerin' whatever the f**k I want
In this microphone, dog, honestly (Uhh)
'Cause my competition is noddin' out
And they gettin' weak at the sight of me (Oh)
Lookin' slumped over like some f**kin' pumpkins
On your porch, months after Halloween (Ha ha ha)
Y'all turnin' gray, I'm guttin' y'all
And hittin' the fryin' pan with every seed
Damn, I'm such a bunghole
Somebody go grab the T.P.​
I ain't finna wipe, I'm rollin' Elm Street
I'm that ghost appearin' in your f**kin' dreams
My rap album's like horror films
Dog, Freddy Krueger f**kin' scared of me
Yeah, everybody got a damn opinion
Ain't we all just some as*h**es (Uh huh)
Yeah I wanna be the biggest one
I throw diarrhea at your household
b*t*h, get the f**k off of my lawn
Like I'm pushin' 70 with a Gran Torino
I can't understand a thing y'all say
Like a El Camino full of damn amigos
Allá vega, grab the aloe vera
This is like a midget versus Matt Serra
Yeah, I'm kickin' ass like my name McGregor
Got 'em thinkin' "Who the f**k is this fella?"
I'm Upchurch, got 'em butthurt
I rock rebel flags and don't give a sh*t
My career got a clean title
Level lookin' higher than your daddy's lift kit (Bbrraa)
People askin' me how I got the juice
I'm like, "I don't let people drink after me" (Nope)
Actually let me pour you a cup
And add a bit of this antifreeze
Eh, bro, why the shaky knees?
Nobody in this lane want it with me
Not even a small cough or tiny sneeze
I'm sick in the head but the rhymes I spit
Got Asian guys like, "Hory sh*t!"
Got black dudes like "Goddamn!"
Got white people with rich kids
Lookin' at me shakin' they jugheads (Oh my God)
Got the trailer park thumpin' like Talladega
Happens every day of the week
And I still say I might do it for Dale
Even though my logo is R.H.E.C., sh*t
I'ma suck the life out of you
I'm more spectacular than Dracula
Some sh*t I write is so dark
My manager thinks I need counselors
But f**k the help and f**k the shelf
You can't f**k me, I can only f**k myself (Uhh)
Go ahead, run full force
I'll throw a dildo into your vocal chords
Then say, Stoney, stop this beat
"Why these haters chokin' for?" (Hah)

(Ghost, I'm a ghost, I'm a ghost)

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