episode 1 - sea section lyrics
[verse 1: schizocarp]
yeah, i got raps in mp3s
and timmy’s mom in pngs
yo, i got beef with timmy brow, but it ain’t no southern barbeque
think i’m talking to another timmy, no, i’m talking to you
pretty little boy born into money
yeah, i ruined your life on twitter, now ain’t that funny
1 follower 2 follower 3 followers more
all because i wanted to even the score
look at timmy over there making his puns
all he’s going to see is the b-tt of my gun
yo, bang bang pow, yeah something like that
go ahead, try to suspend me for that
my words flow like some crystal blue persuasion
yo, timmy that’s called talent for your information
timmy go back to friday’s where you belong
you dropped out of college so you can’t get a real job
timmy brown music with an “l”
account got suspended, that’s just as well
yo mi casa su casa
see, you can’t understand it
mrs. guillermo even said, you’re terrible at spanish
they also said my words flow like smooth thunder, loud and abrupt
kinda like how i love timmy brown’s mother
[verse 2: chub mackerel]
yeah my name is lumpy
on a gravel road with billy
call that stuff bumpy
i’m not allowed to swear, but keep the censors coming
kicked off the track team, but i keep the camera’s running
yeah i got suspended
5 days without riches
still scratching cause i got the st-tches
white boy, white bread
toasting five club sandwiches
call me the prophecy
look up, look down
pastel colored shirt, can’t you see
surfing on my career, and i’m out to sea
spitting rhymes out like tea
lines at the market like the food’s for free
buy a lot of cheese, can’t poo
too much freeze, it’s hard: you can’t chew
name ain’t constipation
see, i’m an atheist filled with elation
trying to think of lines, what a frustration
we are the world : haitan nation
observant onlooker: dude, you’re not black
chub: shut up…. i bought tom’s
[verse 3: thimbleye]
look, ain’t a rhyme or reason
can’t be white and rap in season
admittedly, my flow’s not as strong as the niagra
but d-mn at least i get it up without v–gr-
you say i’m jacking your style, yet call my junk mainstream
who cares, i’m still the subject of your wet dream
keep writing they tell me, like this sh-t’s easy
but it ain’t
when your goal’s to be on wikipedia and imdb
used to call it gibberish, made it up in the brain
whatever it takes to achieve the fame
your kid’s got a rat tail, caption that picture with a fail
impact font size 69
cents, mercedes benz, and a dime
doing my own lines on rap g*nius
while you’re snorting lines off of a p-n-s
waiting in line to see me at a concert
asian festival, under the dress, get some up-skirts
call me a pervert, i am just a janitor
cross dresser, yes, regardless an amateur
hour, power flour
no puff girls, not sweet, we’re sour
chub: [?]
thimbleye: dude, whatever. you want me to… redo?
chub: [?]
thimbleye: alright… just end it now
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