Lyrics

[Intro] I don't think y'all know what you're 'bout to get into [Verse 1: Onry Ozzborn] Yeah Serotonin saliva Cross bred with the wicked of men and God's lighter Fly high or die, D-I-Wi-Fi rules the sky so I comply Never quit dick, Clark Kent shit Lois Lane that I paid your arrhythmic Sloppy pigment ign'ant It's just a mater of arithmetic [Verse 2: JFK Ninjaface] Witness the chemist the sick pit I manage the pen and I'm quick wits Like my dick is to your bitch lips And you think I'ma give a shit? You right I might just dump a thick brick in your crib, Goodnight twice Cause I can give two shits, the kids nice I'm ruthless and ill wit' it, Eric Wright I'm apparently very dope, mean when I grip the mic I'm like an overdose of dopamine, hold on for dear life [Verse 3: Onry Ozzborn] Excellence is implemented every time we enter Any booth, we Ferngully sabretooth Let it consume you become the exorcism move dude Survive the exorcism, Now you're wearing Moon Boots Plant the flag and Instagram it Or fabricate a portrait of accomplishment to show people that you advantaged Only the land win Coast to coast still clear and you accept that we the only one still standin' [Verse 4: JFK Ninjaface] Got a six figure track to hit 'em wit' Some classical syllable spit acid, ribonucleic fashion 'Till every ligament in your body is burned to ashes No need to ask "Who is he?" after this you disaster Turn your jewels to molasses, laugh at you when you're blasted[?] Staple some fake lashes[?], lame and you ain't crackin' But here's a sample of eight straight to the crafted Titans in Hades' basement with lightning hittin' the masses [Verse 5: Onry Ozzborn] Michael and Jeffry murder everything Bring it back to life, prepare it for reentry NASA slimeball fire for the fuse hair Diagnose that's the chosen why are you here? Ain't it fuckin' clear right fuckin' now Why I fuck around? Fucker just get down Real rap juice, real rap dudes Paper boys on that bike with the good news [Verse 6: JFK Ninjaface] Come get it, Let it infest your mind like a sedative Embed it, lettuce, though of[?] divine and let it live Your debted, wetted, hollow tech nines and we let 'em rip Who knows what I'll fish when I leave this recording booth Products will lay him in hate, housing at minimum wage Thousands watch lagers break, and drown a calamitous lake Gothima cinema eight [?], towns in a fit of rage We live in these [?] with no escape [Outro: DJ Spark] There ain't no shame in our game we do our thing son Come get some These simple words just don't move me Be real Yo what you want There ain't no shame in our game we do our thing son Come get some These simple words just don't move me Be real Yo what you want The buck stops here