URB

Lyrics

[Intro: JPEGMAFIA] One two, one two, uh One two, one two, uh One two, one two Pussy Pussy boy One two, one two, uh One two, one two, uh One two, one two, uh [Verse 1: JPEGMAFIA] Nasty with this wrist, I got no competition Great at talking shit like I'm a politician Nationwide ain't on your side, I'm unforgiving I make 'em pay for all these hits like they ain't got collision (Get over here!) Sniper Wolf, I hit these copies with precision (*gunshots*) Peter Bucking niggas 'til they find this new religion I'm that black man that made your daughter hate tradition She bought me Magnums, then I tag her with some new positions I got no head on me, niggas ain't ahead of me Hit your wifey doggystyle, my special move, the pedigree I'm Stone Cold with this recipe, I cook these niggas breakfast, B Llama like spit like Tempa T, how dare these niggas step to me Fuck them cause they not my team Hella dollars, no receipts All this cake up on her face, like damn maybe its Maybelline All this talk about my race, I brush that shit off gracefully Short stroking niggas from the burbs got so much hate for me (Finish him!) First you was a rapper, then you was a trapper Then you was a punk kid, I guess you just an actor Niggas getting mixed up in some shit they never mastered I don't give a fuck about Mo or your grandma Scrapers tryna' buck, they getting dragged by they antlers I ain't talking labor when I say I got the hammer Shane Smith saying that he knows me, not true The papers said I can't hit *bleep*, nigga, not you Niggas want war, but filing orders for peace (*bleep*) I'm running with the squad, while you run to police (*bleep*) Acting out on Twitter just gon' get you deceased (*bleep*) While I smoke your daddy's ashes Out my FAFSA receipts, nigga [Interlude: Freaky] Naa'mean Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yo, yeah, okay, ahem [Verse 2: Freaky] On the mic Make you think twice On stage, you think it's a magic mic Way I take layers off I'm from where the moon and water came from Build relations to the sun Wake up, smell the concrete when the rain's done Hungry, but I need ganja before bacon Give my girl that brown sugar, I'm Sanaa Lathan (FINISH HIM) I got shit to say, Nathan Just know that the style is ancient Wise men told me never get your hopes up for Pitchfork I make sure to scratch and sniff my ass around rich folk Separate the white from the egg yolk Kush and orange juice over French toast Been a goat, tenfold Down the rabbit hole with Drano If you ain't know On the mic, most you no bueno I been spittin', pukin' on myself since a day one Chewing on my favorite color crayon Free Desean (Prepare to die!)