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birds - mptee lyrics

[intro: mptee]
yo yo yo yo yo
you are now tuned in to mptee radio
keep your ears open

[verse 1: mptee]
wonder if the birds know
that we let the earth go
slowly declining, no minding the burning inferno
only thing i enjoy is when i’m smoking the herb bro
watch the world with a spliff in my hand, both of em burn slow
thats ironic, huh?
how we get so high just to end up on the bottom, stuck
so bottoms up
i hope and wish for a lotta luck
i won’t need it, all that i need is p*ssy a lot of drugs
i forgot one thing, n*gga who got a dutch?
think i got so high, that i forgot the grudge
that i have on my ex i send a text, she blocked me, what?
its whatever im better off with a thot to f*ck
swimming in women im kidding but theres a lotta sl*ts
im crashing your party with bacardi all in my plastic cup
imma wrap it up for i tap it i dont want clap or nun
f*ck an average sl*t, man she bad as f*ck and all tatted up
shoutout benny, the posse is gettin pennies
they copy man they just envy
f*ck coppers i don’t like pennies
they had to send me to clean it up cus its messy
the meanest don’t wanna test me
the weed is stinky and smelly
need the febreeze
i heat up the beef
and leave em deceased
i’m easy to keep
but hard to obtain
scarred in the brain
the darkest of days
put marks in my face
got a stomach full of beats cus’ i be starving the game
and while you n*ggas worried about money and cars and the chains
i’m in the booth spittin’ a tooth and carving my name
basquiat, davinci, me and the artist the same
watching clocks come and get me when the arm hit the bank
cus’ time is money
and the sky is above me
i see you wanna get some buzz, why don’t you try it you dummy?
why do she love me?
because i’m high and i’m funny
i’m with this b*tch at the crib and i put it right in the tummy, dummy
but
i punch thru brick walls
you rocking with the big dawg, n*gga your sh*t small
blasting off like 3 rockets when p*ssed off
your b*tch l!ck b*lls, dribbling like she chris paul
missed calls

[pause: mptee]
“yo if that sh*t flew over your head dawg, you’re dumb as f*ck”
(yeah, facts)
“3, rockets, chris paul?”
(d*mnnn broo)

[verse continued: mptee]
wait, i don’t got no cellular
but i’m telling her that i’m stroking until the pelvis hurt
which one of these beats do i wanna embellish first?
h*ll on earth
everybody wanna k!ll the messenger
these fake views man i hate this sh*t
c’mon dawg, its obvious that you faking it
acting like you on the top, n*gga you on the waiting list
im crunching all these phony rappers like they bacon bits

[outro: mptee]

- mptee lyrics

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