jellies cypher - camp knowhere lyrics
[intro: tyler, the creator]
i got y’all fools this time, hit it
[verse 1: sir, rodrigues]
i’m in the upper echelon, the decepticons
you n*ggas ain’t ate in a while like it’s ramadan
b*tches goin’ on and on, i give her d*ck now she gnawing on
gnawing on my d*ck, like fat b*tches at comi*con
n*ggas wonderin’, what the song is on
i ain’t tryna hear all of that, tell me what sonic on
we like the vindicators, f*ck you nomitron
i’m hashtag certified, shout out baby tron
my music go crazy, call it looney tunes
her throat soar cause suckin’ d*ck what she usually do
n*ggas said they gon’ jump, n*gga who is who
sir, rodrigues, f*ck n*gga get used to it
i posted with the clique, like n*ggas on youtube
n*gga told me suck a d*ck, i told him “you too”
better fact, suck a d*ck with your mothers lips
i’ma get my d*ck out and get a nut off quick, n*gga
yeah n*gga
[verse 2: yung neil]
it’s yung neil, yeah b*tch i’m never acting
i’m staying in my room just motherf*cking napping
and camp knowhere is the new odd future
if you hear this go and suck d*ck, it’ll suit ya
yeah i’m feeling ill like devon hendryx
if you mess with me boy i’ll slash your appendix
my rhyme flow is livid like a f*cking dominatrix
this beat sounds like it’s from the f*cking matrix
i’m feeling excited, for my future again
and i’m not with my old group playing pretend yuh
in camp knowhere we gon’ make it f*cking everywhere
we got the spirit of a moose and a bear (yeah)
[verse 3: saint’s row]
740 kickflip big d*ck, back at this sh*t
instance where i pop out like an infant
knowhere be mobbin’ in ya mommas apartment, while i’m taking her to the apartment stores just to shop in and robbin’ sh*t
h*llo mrs. robinson, can i hold a dollar b*tch
matter fact, let me get a nut for the better half of a stack of a couple thrasher mag’s and a boppin’ b*tch
talkin’ bout your daughter b*tch, look at how she swallow d*ck
my sh*t look like a hollow tip
blocking chicks, drop yo’ b*tch
feeling like i’m robin thicke with a bl!ck when i rob yo sh*t
[verse 4: ricoswrld]
come get on my get because you f*ckin’ lame, yeah
let me get the other half of the cash cause i’m low on gas, and i don’t trust cat
listen cause i put tunes in the radio
recognize that’s the sound of those camp knowhere kid’s
going “ayo, it’s rico”
talkin’ about these three hoes, free throw green bean
let a hundred [?] in her cl*t, she’ll f*ck with us
saw me cause she know where we at, won’t pay her a dime for a great time
they all spitting on my flow but ain’t you f*cking grown
let me a order of a number 9 with a side of fries and a goth b*tch
they go down and leave my d*ck sucked, and it’s kind of f*cked up
when i come and spit these verses
type sh*t [?] trippin’
i ain’t gettin’ higher when the latter comes in front of this
curtsey of canada, shout out my favorite type of stuff type of blunt
i was stolen from the ice age, get your [?]
vanish off the face of earth [?] something that you heard
but all point figures [?]
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