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baq - g-rated lyrics

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[intro: g-rated & spice god]
f-cko
doctor f-cko
shhh
mmm… spice god

[verse: g-rated]
yes i’m back up again
you need back up again
if that’s hard to stomach you ‘gon get backed up again
but, but first let’s backup, man
last sh-t feelin gastric
imma p-ss it
cuz i’m past that
gonna drop like acid
where the hazmat
where the fasttrack
but i don’t track-
the sh-t on my shoes, gotta floor mat-
weathertech, imma shut it down itt tech
love sick, but it interject
keep fluid like a d-mn iv inject
iv don’t mean four numbers in that
don’t do stat lines, i do lines, stat!
i don’t do bars for a payday
i do it for the f-ckers that naysay
saying suck my nuts like a payday bar
no i do not play guitar
cuz i’m the last pick
breath of fresh air what the mast hit
sailin down the ‘lantic
sick of my antics?
then i ‘pologize in advance
my eyes behind gl-ss
but i still have a vision
do it different
don’t hate this track, just a carrier pigeon
with a message
for the messes in the m-sses
yeah it’s m-ssive
they ain’t ready for a rapper who average
ain’t attractive but the track give
when it come to bullsh-t, man i lacked it
while they lactate, milkin it so they cash in
but at the end ps cuz they crash-in
i don’t doc cortex, won’t keep my mind at bay
sh-t in my head is the sh-t i will say
but what do i say?
but what do i say?
i’m back
i’m back like b-a-q
the sauce boss like b-b-q
yeah he-be-brew
and he be new
but he said she said- it be cool
at my bars there no empty stool
and that’s big if true
so get snu-snu’d
diary of a wimpy dude
i’m easy to read, but i got em reading
the only pattern is my lines ain’t receding
bald spot on a mall cop at gamestop
paul police and maulin beats
i’m bout to snap like krispy treats
ain’t got myself a chickadee
but you know i got some chicken t’s
puttin em down with the ranch
so many hidden valleys my man
just letting you know in advance
this sh-t cold as bob vance-
vance refrigeration
man it israel, shoutout the nation
go get the camera freddy/nathan
they don’t know me yet but they ready hating
i got a messy apr-n, i’m a schmuck in a smock
they seeing a boulder, i’m hugging a rock
my wurst is a brat with the stadium sauce
i sport the birks with the socks on
and i’m g-ssed up like an exxon
not a flex song, just a track i can best on
so i can hype up the next one
step back buddy, this is 2.0
it might get bl–dy, warning: hemophobes
marked my turf, it the green on globes
you know it’s hype when mike breen goes… -bang-
flipped flamingos -bang-
don’t have stacks but i snack on pringles -bang-
working but i chill domingos -bang-
speak ingles and i’m so joe ingles -bang-
stick to my g’s still get the bingos
indigo, indigo, indigo, indigo, quick to forget
i’m in it tho, in it tho, comin up next
and if they wanna cj, i ask miles or mccollum
miles mccollum, boat lil, but it ain’t hittin bottom
i got ‘em, geared up mechanic, uncanny
so can it you cancers, cuz you can’t understand me
here to return, you can check the receipt
you wanted some music, i happened to be
mr. irrelevant, seriously
yeah… seriously

[outro: g-rated & spice god]
im back… b-a-q
mr. irrelevant
b-a-q
b-a-q
mr. irrelevant
i’m back, b-a-q
f-cko
f-cko, b-a-q
mmm… spice god

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