[Verse 1]
Aight im tryna rap, so shut that ho up
She got that long island voice, bitchy as fuck
And if she dont stop yappin, then out the truck
You know that ho will go, scenery moving slow
Seemingly goose I'll throw, back half a bottle though
I'm waiting for the one to find me dying, drive me home
Because I'm far from it, but the bottle numbed it
And if she feenin for the pipe, you know I gotta plumb it
Shoutout to J.R., Smith, Wesson and AR
15 on my mind, peeping tom by my blinds
Charlie Sheen snorting lines, off your girlfriends ass crack
Whose line is it anyway, we'll take it off that last rack
White lines off those tan lines, that's lineception
And if u ain't feeling the pun, then u can meet my weapon
Hands or teeth or all above, you know when push comes to shove
We find the kush and blaze it up, and lock you down in johnny's truck
Who the fuck is johnny? I don't know, but his truck is nice
I'll dip faster than O.J. and hit the open mics
And spit stronger than i hate myself on lonely nights
We win so many battles but always lose the fight

[Hook]
We always lose the fight, but maybe not tonight
We always lose the fight, but fuck it not tonight
We always lose the fight, but no, not tonight
Not-not tonight x2
We always lose the fight, but fuck it not tonight

[Verse 2]
Because tonight I'm feeling different
More than every rap I've written
I feel alive, I feel insane, I feel the anger in my brain
I feel it rise, I feel the pain, I feel the beast let off the chain
I feel the demons coming
I see the angels running
Woulda sold my soul to the devil, but that'd be kinda pointless
Cause on my head I got these horns, and they're kinda pointed
Get it bitch I'm Lucifer, Diablo's in your life now
And get your hands off of me, you stupid little dyke cow
Ow, that was kinda harsh, I act the fool
Considering i like beef, short girls, lesbians too
Matter fact gimme the latter two, we'll get it rockin
If she's small like 5"2, I'll stuff it like a christmas stocking
Can't afford a Bronco though, so as of now I have no ho
All I got's this bag of blow, a pen, and a dreadful flow
Sleepless in Seattle
Drown in the ink doing the doggy paddle