Heyo Brad
I know we're usually above this indie-rock beef type shit but
Man, I'm so fuckin' sick and tired of these bargain-basement Mac DeMarco-wannabes
You know I had to light up at least one of 'em
And yeah, 'cause he started it
Hey, Netherfriends
This one goes out to you, you fucking kook

Let me start with my thesis: fuck these lames
Who came to LA to take shots at my name
But I didn't come to chase fame or get paid
I'm a pretty girl, bitch, I just came to make graves
If you wanna fight, bitch, that's all right kid
You vers' me is ice cream versus ice pick
I think you sound like shit
Objectively
I'll split you up and down right quick
Symmetrically
Until your blood runs red on Sunset
Your body parts strewn all over Figueroa
Open up a gastro-pub on El Dorado
Serve us every bread with a slice of avocado
You can drink cool macchiatos 'til you're jittery
I bet you fall asleep with your head up in a guillotine
You're so prolific, let's put it to the test
I'll see how many records you can make with your dying breath
And you're the Kook of Echo Park
The Kook of Echo Park
The Kook of Echo Park

Let's talk straight
And cut through the nonsense
I make art, you make YouTube content
You can smoke weed every day but I'd smoke crack
And take a bat to that Panama hat, jack
And matter of fact, I might hit you where it hurts
Roll up on your boys, spray ketchup on your patterned shirt
And put a cease to that thrift-store chic
You Macklemore-looking motherfucker

You talk shit, I bet you're nice to my face
So if you wanna fight name a time and a place
How about the lake? Around about brunch?
I get the Glock and feed your fucking bones to a duck
We don't fuck
You should think before you diss-track
You wanna record? I treat the gun like a click track
On tempo
Put the steel to your temple
And turn the shot into a snare with your loop pedal

And you're the Kook of Echo Park
The Kook of Echo Park
The Kook of Echo Park
So let that be a lesson to all you self-hating hipsters
All you trust-fund troubadours out there
Hey yeah, you wanna take shots at the flock, I gots the chalk

And as for you, Netherfriends, well, I could probably sit here and diss you all day long, but
I'd have to Google you just to find out who the fuck you are, first
It's like, goddamn my dude
Ain't you ever heard of a little something called Quality Control?
I mean, how can one guy put out a hundred albums and have them all be terrible?
You'd think you'd get lucky every now and again just based on statistics alone, but
I dunno, I'mma help you out though
I know I can't teach you how to write a good song
I know I can't convince you to give up music altogether, but
If nothing else, maybe I can convince you
To take off that silly-ass fedora
It's like, you're not fooling anyone, my dude
You have a receding hairline, it's nothing to be ashamed of
It's very common for people your age, but
You're gonna wanna just fake it, get it over with and lean into the bald thing
You'll be better off
Peace