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let me be frank (part 2) - fubar lyrics

[verse]
i’ll wait ’til you close your eyes and imagine a tropical scene
hot as can be, then hit you with a slap you are not gonna see
it’ll force you to drop to your knees
then i’ll attack you with a knife*hand chop to the t**th
listen i’m looking for the b*tch who left me
to sneak in her house and take sh*t until her fridge is empty
write a verse for the h*ll of it and rip the bed sheets
spit and then leave as quick as jet skis
i’ll come into your house while the weather is garbage
good luck with thе mud i’ll embed in your carpets
i’m bеgging your pardon?
i’m soft on the inside? well yeah, but i write such incredible hard sh*t
24/7, ready to start sh*t
i’m a bully, you’re nothing but eventual targets
even though i’m 5’9″ and i’m never the largest
i’ll put you to sleep, squeeze your neck in my armpits
you know i’m the best, dope as it gets
g.o.a.t. with a pen, bow to me and show your respect
or you can die while i choke you to death
i put that on the hair follicles that no longer grow on my head
i’ll make it simple and plain, i’m sick in the brain
twisted insane, just look at my ridiculous name
they call me fubar.. f*cked up beyond all recognition i pray
you never get in my way
driven insane, eliciting pain
go to your job in the drizzling rain so i can spit in your face
while you work earning minimum wage
i’ll be in a travolta mask talking like i’m nicholas cage
it is certainly strange i prefer to be in states of emergency
punch you in the face but with courtesy
embrace the absurdity, i’ll make you plank for eternity
people yelling “frank’s trying to murder me!”
the legacy i leave will eventually address what i decree
annihilate a page but especially a beat
alien incredibly unique
with a d*ck so big you couldn’t measure it in feet
this is more than a rhyme, type to show up at your door with a knife
start crying and implore you to die
glory is mine, with fans that adore what i write
reciting lines that are fly like the horse that i ride
reinforce my design ’til i’m a raggedy old guy
by then it won’t really even matter i flow nice
’til then i’ll lay you on your back with a clothes line
and hit you so hard that we actually both die
i suggest that you return to your residence
moment you experience a burst of adrenaline
you think you want to battle me? first try a sedative
i’m puerto rican, you know the worst kind of mexican

- fubar lyrics

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