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bad day - sixth sense lyrics

[eyedea]
the only way i cope with depression, is remembering i’m the dopest ever
you and flowin’ never could go together like bathing suits and snowy weather
i’m forever fading crews name some fools i probably tore em’
cuz your wack and stick out like genital warts on a sore thumb
i’ma die of boredom hearin’ your tape, i mean that long repet-tive song
your cub scout leader helped you make
you run artistic autistic d-ck suckin’ van wagon bumper sticker
get off my jock can’t you read the do not disturb sign on my zipper?
what’s this a test, to see how much weight my d-ck can carry?
i’m fresh, ill, nice, and every other word in the dictionary
b-tch i’m very sick, i thought i was through talking sh-t
now i’m like f-ck the world, just cuz you walk on it
i lost my grip on optimism, now that my hands are free
i’ma show your whole family the p-ssed off ferocious animal man in me
i try to be p-ssive in a t-tle bout, but now it’s time for superman to give little mighty mouse something to whine about
i house nerds, their cheeks tremble when they pretend to pr-nounce words
my d-cks the micky d’s for mc’s over 80 billion mouths served
you and all your boys can’t take me, it destroyed your lady’s pride when you tried to flow and your voice was shaky
cottonmouth nervous stutter, you should’ve known you was weak when you got your half-deaf alzheimer’s having grandma critiquing you
i’m havin’ a bad day, so just keep quiet
plus, you made it a whole lot worse when i found out you didn’t die yet
i bet your mom feels the same way, but she don’t say sh-t
that’s why she sniffed markers when she was pregnant and laced your bottle with lead
paint chips you’re an ancient’s ancient fossil
fell in a pot hole needed a role model to follow and picked me cuz i got flows
i got dough sayin’ you can’t get with me
your only chance of victory is if i write a rhyme for you to spit to me
slow poke you’ll be leavin’ with a swole throat after the battle
and a tattoo on your head, that says eyedea’s no joke
you humongous scr-t-m fungus bacterial parasite
i been tearin’ mics since you were knee high to a pre-mature wood tick
shush b-tch, i’ll leave you tore, as people roar in laughter
stop bleedin’ otherwise after you’re gonna have to clean the floor
here’s a dustpan for dead skin and chipped bones
you got crushed man, you should’ve went home and took your flintstones
like a good r-t-rded rejected neglected double-headed sperm that fertilized a mutated egg and was definitely anorexic
so that explains why you got the iq of a barbie doll and the patience of an alarm clock
you’ll be the first one to start a brawl and the last one to get out of intensive care
i cause death on contact with paper every time i put my pencil there

yo i didn’t get enough sleep, and i ain’t had sh-t to eat
plus your mouth is running like new athletes at a track meet
my head hurts, my body aches and i ain’t got sh-t to do
f-ck it, i’ll just take out all my anger on you

man, now i feel coool…

- sixth sense lyrics

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