madman - ahnonymous lyrics
tired of these clowns, thinking that they run the madhouse
tired of these fake thugs, posing with their cash out
videos full of b*tches with fake tits & ass out
its time for me to wipe the game clean, call it blackout
watch your ass when i come through
this field is about to become a war zone
imma leave these pr*cks exposed
like they’re caught on their laptop on & p*rn showing
see, you can’t catch me with my pants down
because i’ve got nothing that i try to hide
i don’t need to f*cking fake sh*t, like the pranks i pulled back when i was five
i got eyes & ears everywhere, so don’t start chatting sh*t
bad mouthing cuz i’m doing better myself now, is that it?
try to say my songs are garbage?
b*tch, you thought you were part of one
these snakes are trying to talk to me
you’d swear i’m speaking p*rs*ltongue
i’m an original that you’ll find once in a blue moon
my lyrics hit you harder than when you down a dozen blue chews
strung together like a violin, my rhyme’s immaculate
go nuts on the page, like it’s covered in ej*cul*te
i told you before, i can do this alone
just put me in a room with a microphone
a pen & some paper & trust me, i know
the sh*t that i write, like balloons, it’ll blow
this is all that i have, man, i can’t let it go
when i’m at the mic, i’m in my f*cking zone
i open my mouth & i just let it flow
there’s no other path, this is all that i know
look, i told you i’m a madman
denied entry so many times, you’d swear they’re playing kapkan
you talk tough, but inside you’re a p*ssy, call it cat scan
i’m tryna find a wife, not a brazzer i’m just paying for a lap dance
i don’t just flow at a certain speed
my sh*t’s random, like the autobahn in germany
i’m just tryna find a girl where i can insert my seed
but they don’t seem like they even wanna flirt with me
i mean, i get it, i’m not like hercules
i can’t throw a ford fiesta 30 feet
but i can spit a few bars if you send me a beat
and with how fast i can flow, you’ll wanna let me eat
2nd time lucky, imma come back strong
try to have fun when i write my songs
but they don’t quite hit, i don’t know what’s wrong
maybe it’s the lyrics, or the beats i’m on
ooh, i’ve got it, i found my flaw
my bars cause friction like primark thongs
but unlike my d*ck, they don’t last too long
and you can feel free to try prove that wrong
okay, my bad, i may have been too brash
but at least i’m not out here fake flexing with a wad of cash
at least i’m not surrounded by some trash girls with fake ass
or talking bout all the different drugs that i’ve never had
don’t get me wrong, i enjoy letting out my wild side
and though it flopped, imma get back up, cuz i know this here is my time
and if you don’t like the sh*t i’m doing, there’s the door, bye*bye
but don’t come crawling back when i’m making more buzz than a house fly
you know i got them bug eyed when i hop on a track
music is a one way street for me, there’s no going back
so while you’re saying stupid sh*t, like “this white kid can’t rap”
i’ll be at home, grinding hard, so i can get the last laugh
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