Death Grips Pop
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your crisis is my alarm why I'm like shh stay calm you fight shit I ride upon my knife been drawn 3-6-5 light of dawn lit up rock you live under ass backwards muthafucka features like hot butter like your brothers your father and your sisters your mother trend setter maximum third planet from the sun orbit my lungs bulldozin cul de sacs ground under over every act cut no slack no slack
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no chance to throw I rush the mound rage stormin off the chains remind me of rape house slave cock rings you're played out like talking your cadence is sloppy can't break me I got me you're grave stink I'm lofty you're lady like lolli pop tramp on that jigaboo goddamn I'm so sick of you I despise that shit what I would never align me with feel free to mime me but don't be saltine when I call you a biter bitch
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