we do it for fun (pt. 2) - tha joker (us) lyrics
every morning while you go to starbucks to get coffee
i be at the bank like, get this cash off me
my car so new, but my money so old
my grill iced out, so my barbecue’s cold
3-2-1: blast off, you b-st-rds
sp-ceship doors, my garage is nasa
hedgehog game: i am much faster
you are a lizard, i am a raptor
when i hit the club or the stage, i party hard
witness hoes naked, like everyday was mardi gras
see, i’m 17, and i have an accountant
you’re 17, but you get an allowance
when i see p-ssy… i’m poundin’
what else would you expect from tha joker, clowning
bankin’ over here, what you want to drink honey
blow stacks so it’s like i give head to my money
i’m a studio geek, urkel, ned flanders
car sits low, chameleon salmander
joker beats, lock up sell 3
white girl trunk stand marshall mathers lp
even my haters, secretly they felt me
last name west, there’s nothing you can tell me
i am super s-xy in my white tee or my wife b
burn so many trees, smokey bear doesn’t like me
let’s be honest, who really wanna fight me?
you can throw b-lls but i bet you won’t strike me
look into that future, see me in that bentley
check my bank account: don’t i have plenty?
my hoes won’t hump you, they’re so stingy
i would acknowledge you, but i’m not friendly
boys n the hood flow, south central rhyme
godfather delivery, scarface mind
basically what i’m saying is i’m one of a kind
if you thinkin’ ’bout battling me, ya thinkin’ ’bout dyin’
fakes, phony, please stop trying
i parade my gangster, what are you implying?
she can feel my bone all on her spine
-rg-sm, back spasms: she straight crying
i f-ck with ladies, i won’t even watch wh0r-s
don’t shake hands, cause you prolly didn’t wash yours
this sh-t is easy, i could do it in my slumber
and i make so much money, i should have a pin number
dumb and dumber; where is your hunger?
veggie eating b-tch, here’s my cuc-mber
close your mouth, listen to me thunder
i am a pirate, i’m throwing my plunder
black pearl gangster, south side legend
you gonna need a notebook for all these lessons
teacher, preacher, deacon, reverend
whole d-mn kenmore in my bezzle
i am the greatest there will ever be
me to the rap game, is like fatback to peas
chopper, semi, c-cking, blasting
i flip birds: bluejay gymnastics
street cred test? i motherf-ckin’ p-ssed it
at least 20 grand in one of these elastics
i really don’t like when haters throw sodium
i am the sh-t, please p-ss the imodium
a-d, play me, you couldn’t do it safely
i control the roc, call me the new jay-z
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