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dumb high - demigodz lyrics

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[verse one: apathy]
there’ll never be a better cracker rapper for a lack of better words
batter up, i’m bad as f-ck, f-ck a battle, y’all are nerds
nerf b-lls in the super bowl, absolutely absurd
serve rappers like soup bowls with scones for dessert
surfs up, you’ll certainly get sunk
drive your whip off a pier with you tied up in the trunk
this is truck music, ask your girlfriend ’cause we f-ck to it
inside her suv, i’ll set you free
rip your soul out your body, i’mma let you see
the cosmos, god’s close, turn your flesh into compost
i’m confident, d-ck big as the washington monument
i’m grimy as f-ck but still walk amongst the opulent
abandon ship, rip your spirit out then i’ll banish it
then channel it with ancient m-n-scripts and amulets
come from willimantic, kids are speakin’ that spanish sh-t
don’t throw me on the beat if you don’t want me to damage it

[verse two: motive]
i’m on some other sh-t now, just for the f-ck of it
i get down like chris brown do, but mo’ cut a b-tch
my money grows on trees, a dough farmer
out for presidents to represent me n-gga like shawn carter
they say my rhymes are sorta like a suicide bomber
with marijuana, leave your city smokin’ like osama
the demigod-father here to settle problems and beef
all my utensils is metal n-ggas i’m starvin’, let’s eat
handle the job for any f-ggots thinkin’ godz is sweet
the prodigy that bring havoc when d.r.’s mobb deep
it’s h-ll on earth if i don’t cake up much quicker
the kid can’t function with no paper, like a printer
like ninja turtles with no splinter, strippers with no tippers
hip hop with no n-ggas (yeah right)
i got a motherf-ckin’ plan to get it crackin’ fam
have you held up and stuck like a traffic jam

[verse three: esoteric]
where your bars at? we don’t horse around
this ain’t for all that, you could get tortured now
you ain’t k!llin’ the game, your escalades are four cylinder
i’m a super villain spittin’ villainous slang
the dillinger bang or was it my voice? my weapon of choice
blogs taint my links like they stealin’ my chain
you ain’t the master but i’m willin’ to train
f-ck a rapper turned singer, dog i’m feelin’ no pain
got my body on earth and my brain on the moon
i’m in two places at once like mf doom, ah
get ya lifted like cannabis sativa
lyrically foot loose like canibus in teva’s
haha, it’s unanimously ether like when…
qb’s speak on the jay/nas beef
you cop haggar briefs at tj max and chaps
i don’t f-ck with that, i’m polo strapped
i don’t know you dawg, so no more dap
we the best alive, you couldn’t get this fly
with miyagi, chopsticks, and pesticide

[interlude: sample from the motion picture ‘tombstone’]
“you tell him i’m coming and h-ll’s coming with me you hear?! h-ll’s coming with me!”

[verse four: open mic]
man listen, i’mma show you what you’ve been missin’
i spit with conviction like rap’s my religion
smash up your set then i’ll bail like i’m christian
too late for you to escape with snake plissken
a man on a mission, man on a wire
i’m denzel bringin’ you h-ll, man on fire
this sh-t is gettin’ old so i plan to retire
but plans often change, now my name’s on your flyer
the innovator, old school demigod originator
stay fresh, keep my notebooks in the refrigerator
dictionary dictator, sorta like a waiter
the way i serve emcee’s will make you wanna tip me later
no need for the gratuity, i’m tearin’ that -ss up
i never p-ss up the opportunity
to take your sh-t talk and flush it, i’m no joke
boy ya shoulda known by now, meezy does it

[verse five: celph t-tled]
outside my house is investigators
so i invest in gators to rip the chest of a perpetrator
plus the k-9 squad of german sheppards and rotts
and when they catch you they gon’ show you what heaven is not
i’m a man of mystery, put them grams on the triple beam
50 grand when i spit my speech (it ain’t sh-t to me. b-tch!)
no serial on my gun (yea), i got tricks up my sleeve (yea)
frosted flakes on my blow (aw), lucky charms in my weed (what up)
ridiculous but inconspicuous (aww)
crime computers has my name with ‘dangerous’ in parenthesis (yea)
i burst a gasket, i’m off the hinges
these are syringes filled with criminal vengeance (aw)
i get the dough (get it), i got the props (got it)
sniper on speed dial, i call the shots
alert the marshals, the feds, yeah the policemen too
just know if f-ggots didn’t exist then neither would you

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