Yeah
I’ve been a Christian
Longer than I can remember
Since before Collective Soul was singing songs about December
Money in the bank ladder match number one contender
Shelton Benjamin suplex
[?] swiping right on Tinder my
Endocrine glands
Give me long life like Bicentennial Man
With twice the energy and
Swiped identity stamps
With a revoked license to straight up hit on your fam
It’s all Mr. Nice Guy till he tries to get in her pants
Just give it a chance when he tries give it a glance
His eyes are the distraction he devised the simplest plan
Headshot, Jell-o shot, body shot, tequila shot
Desert eagle shot [?] mojito shot
OMG Dios mio!
Love my enormous ego, Miloš Forman
Born in the cut like Neosporin my hero
I’ll take your Tamagotchi
Force feed you almonds
While I bang a mash up of the Osmonds, Almond Bros and Aasman Wale
Punch like Muhammad Ali
Punchline like Talib Kweli
Punch like I’m quality over quantity
Ja Rule, homie
If 2Pac had told me only God could judge me earlier
I probably would have made a song on my first Sony
When I was five and lonely
And watching Fievel going west like
Manifest-Destiny-fed-right jabronies
Reading history books talking reverse racism
The hearse that straight taking ‘em
To where the dirt graves hid ‘em
The worst laid missions
Denying the church/state schism
Gays can get married now
Y’all still got Mercedes Benzs
And birthday presents and Earth Day lessons
Y'all's marriage been the same since y’all first prayed blessings
I rap at theme parks where people chomp on chili dogs
And city hall, where people run away faster than Willie Gault
Yeah
Those are Oakland Raiders references
Subliminal thoughts transmitted through local native’s messages
Close to 80 sedatives most of ‘em taking [and bedding it?]
It’s embedded in his head how the po-po raids for evidence
Polo sprayed on everything
Hiding sins that might incense the heightened sense of the units the canine’s in
8, 9, 10 times a night she calls
Hoping she can patch it up before he in some new draws
And I understand the desperation of sending drunk texts
But face it, he was probably on to the next
The night that you said you hate him
I paint the mosaic that makes the bros go "playa"
The GoPro made the girls go prosaic
Yeah, that’s dopamine that’s coursing through they veins
Like a One Direction concert
When they still performed with Zayn
Malik
You’re gonna need Malik Yoba
A universal elite soldier, unique yoga
Three freakin’ leaf blowers, Tim Tebow, a Repo Man, and a free cobra
To try to stop the free throws that Heath McNease throwin'
Y’all write hooks like Phil Collins enthusiasts
I write hooks that split collagen-oozing lips
Y’all like books made for Hollywood movie scripts
I like books showing authors I’m ‘bout to eclipse
Anomalies do exist
I’m living proof like moving from kitchen counters
To bending spoons in living rooms
In front of oracles, that’s Delphi and Golden State
Hellfire there’s no escape
Steph Curry how I molding Clay
Call me Money Mayweather
But even pay better
[?] That’s aged cheddar
Big H the eighth letter
Should be my pseudonym—“hooligan”
Usin’ them inappropriate bars
Kicked out of your youth group again
Pseudonym Mark Twain
Pseudonym O' Henry
Pseudonym Seuss all under the guise of roll with me
Snowmiser’s snow hit me
Heatmiser’s bow hit me
The year without a Santa Claus sucked, stocking was so empty
My flow simply does not compute
With simple-minded automatons
Marching off cliffs like lemmings all at once
Till we can drop the beef life Ramadan
I’mma keep my karma strong enough to get a jet
Like Creflo Dollar wants
G4
Before I was stripping in Ybor City like Magic Mike
Affirmation was my reward
Swan dress like Bjork
Collecting dollar bills in nooks and crannies never seen ‘cause that’s some cash that I don’t report