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lakitu - fried rice lyrics

[verse 1: fried rice]
i eat the -ss for breakfast, the pussy for dessert
the c-m flies all around like a f-cking blizzard
i f-cked your b-tch’s pussy, i bet you miss her
i hack into that pussy like i’m in the squad, lizard
i go mad for the pussy man, i go f-cking berserk
succ every day, this b-tch a f-cking expert
pussy game magic, motherf-cking pussy wizard
i’ve never actually seen a vagina, f-ck

[verse 2: pridemore]
okay, we out in the desert and we runnin’ this shit
it’s hot as hell but we got all the water in this b-tch
camas middle cl-ss, so ya know we kinda rich
like kung fu kenny say the flow is so sick
we finna run it back like the pacer test
don’t got the best flow yet but that’s surely my best
when i create these bars into gold success
become the best maker out, i’m better than the rest

[verse 3: fried rice]
iced tea, warm water, soundproofing in the dormer
your heart d-mn colder as i’m only getting warmer
you’re a f-cking peasant, while i’m the d-mn lorder
vomit your cold heart out with your f-cking eating disorder, b-tch
b-tch, a “crazy b-tch!”
got my back hurting like a “crazy itch!”
i’ll throw my verse at y’all, it’s wetter than my d-ck
just kidding i’m a virgin, shit, uh

[verse 4: pridemore]
camas, camas, camas, as white as printer paper
ban us, ban us, ban us, go bright with dinner later
throw in some spice, that shit is best
throw down some rice with beef and the zest
don’t know how to cook but i take it as a threat
throw all that dice in the grand budapest
throw your -ss down in that grand booty fest
trying real hard when you do the final test

[verse 5: fried rice]
i rhyme every line until the last bar
repeating the same jokes like my name’s ryan barr
tie a couple ropes, hang yourself, die hard
or talk about your memes over midi guitars
i’ve written more bars than suicide notes
i’ve written more bars than dude inside those
prison cells, cause f-ck it, y’all got actual charges
i’m just sending texts b-tch, you’re f-cking lethargic

[verse 6: pridemore]
i’m drinking iced tea and i do it in rounds
the project’s a pound and yo’ pound is an ounce
compared to the kick and the snare and the sound
with the mix and master to make it account
it’s too late, i ain’t great but i’m good at the beats
you can’t make no dough, so you give back receipts
you’re makin’ eps, your career goes delete
i’m pulling out rhodes, you put down your seat
throwing shit around, that’s my profession
f-ck around in cl-ss, i can’t hear the lesson
photoshop cl-ss, yeah we takin’ photos
then after that, let’s go buy some joe yo
cuz i’m kinda hungry, huh, thirsty for food
and you’re doin’ other shit, i don’t wanna be rude
but we can’t risk grades to go down and under
so we gotta do the math and count the numbers, like

[verse 7: fried rice]
1-2-3, 5-7-8-9
how many thots do we got online?
and how many thots do we got on mine?
and how many thoughts do you got on your mind?
that you aren’t saying, that you aren’t saying
i’ve been saying mine, hospital staying
i’ll probably write this little verse and go
but you’ll hear this and throw your phone out the window
i throw rocks at these thots as i pull up in that bimmer
that b-tch f-cking ugly, have you even f-cking seen her
call me mr. memer with the misdemeanors
bored at the border like i missed a beaner
warned her, horned her, borned a, restraining order
i was in there early like an amazon pre-order
i give it to you easy, you should take a fact or two
i’m throwing all my sharp shit at you, like lakitu

[verse 8: pridemore]
okay, okay, okay, okay, enough of this track
i’m sick of this flow that came outta backpacks
gonna be this verse, one more and that’s that
then on the next track, we finna run right back
cuz there’s bar, song, part for everybody
student-athletes, blacks, arabs, and thotties
but enough of that now, it’s still for fun
last bar done, right onto the next one

[skit: pridemore and fried rice]
dude, shut the f-ck up, stop whining about b-tches
shut up b-tch your bars were wack as shit
if you make one more whiny–ss bar about thots i swear to f-cking god i’ma-
well maybe them thots stop f-cking with me
f-ck you

[outro: sampled]
the naked mole rat
although it’s neither a mole, nor a rat
much about their behavior is strange
they spend their entire lives in virtually complete darkness
weaving their way through an underground network of burrows and tunnels

- fried rice lyrics

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