Quintuplets

Lyrics

[Verse 1] You catch the back last from paragraph Laugh and its little rapper trash Got the powdered bags stashed in the caravan I sneeze on cats like there's dandruff in their fur They leave it up to their manager to do the work Might have some punchlines, but I don't see the fire in her eye They think life is Eddie Murphy party all the time So let the vocals at the mind So crystal clear on his mic, but crystal meth on his mind Record labels got more up their sleeves than just dirty arms It's a disconcerting mob Everybody wanna be rappers and talk about themselves like superheroes Your group is a crutch, and your producer's a weirdo Got room to grow, where'd your career go? Nowhere, cause you sound the same you did years ago... King of the underground [Verse 2] Every song is like album, each albums sacred The word play makes sense in ways that can't be explained So just play that, funky, funky Its crunk butter bubble gum sucker MC's Get left like the bodies exhibit Knows karate, plus a shotty and biscuit Brass knuckles, switch blade, Swiss army, a kitchen A stiletto, a screwdriver, and some scissors Hit the lab all winter, new jams And we can battle if you wanna get embarrassed in front of your friends Got your chicken head all impressed Punch her in the titty, down shifting in a benz She come on stage and then I came on stage Run trains like you wanna puff a name brand's [?] Black like Obama [Verse 3] GDP is like the dark side of the force, on the dark side of the moon Spark the dark side of the spoon, put it on the far side, shoot Hand me a tie, she keeps passing me by I'm never getting a job and I'm never going to die Married to the game of quintuplets She doesn't listen to know one, doesn't respect nothin Young kids be like, "GDP, I relate to you." (thanks) I tell em "That's what happens when you pay your dues" There's some things that money can't buy And for everything else there's armed robbery and homicide The king is some shit some folks don't even know about But the few who do feel honored just to smoke us out Gold label on the house no doubt Girls book me in their towns just to put me in their worthless mouths We smoked an L [Outro] Useless. Useless, useless. Pistol Pete, Slangcorp. Run for mother fucking cover. Litterally, lit-trally, litrally. Aoi