In With The New

Lyrics

- Yeah yo let me get a push pop and two great whites [Verse 1: Ouija & Choirboy] This is android joy I'm a Ouija board boy Attitude oi punk fucking with that bok choy Got a crush fetish, stepping on punks that is They like a shitty salad too because they just lettuce Swag! I'm underwater in an ice cream truck (Honk honk) I bet you never been that fucked up Toof Gods flip ya hat brims up Pull ya hoodie strings out Cuff ya pant legs up (That's that shit!) My mob's deep and we all shallow Me posse got we daggers ready for you marshmallows This shit I'm sniffing got me drifting in the Deathly Hallows And carbon misfit diction you with broken arrows Scene I'm a fire starta', twisted fire starta Twitter fiend so I'm never too far from my phone charger Psychoschematic with that automatic static If you want it, you can have it On the website you can grab it (Yeah) [Chorus: Ouija & Choirboy] We got that shit that make you slap yo'self (Bitch) The typa shit that make you ask yo'self (This) Ain't you tired of the same old dudes? Same book, same look, same views Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new) We doing something that these others can't do Different life, different site, different crew Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new) [Verse 1: Choirboy] Already know, damn, rolling through the city stuntin' Chilling with my broad [?] down for anything "You mean anything?" I mean anything I'll kill these hoes, no pity [?] reppin' for my city And today ain't no exception Cold cracker campaign but this ain't no election [?] with connections These are my confessions [?] no need to be deceptive (Nah) Can I put a lil twist on your perspective? Keep 'em guessing, redefine what fresh is Talk sick, look ill, it's so infectious Ain't really, really, really swag unless it's Dat Toof but that's a given like respect is Heavy is the head that wears the crown and the necklace Lil different but it's time to accept it [?] [Chorus: Ouija & Choirboy] We got that shit that make you slap yo'self (Bitch) The typa shit that make you ask yo'self (This) Ain't you tired of the same old dudes? Same book, same look, same views Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new) We doing something that these others can't do Different life, different site, different crew Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new) [Verse 2: Ouija] Nothing but freaks here (Ah!) Nothing but geeks here (Ah!) My crew's a nightmare So who do we fear? Don't make it awkward homie, you ain't supposed to be here The swag is rare, yeah We on that leap year Blogs don't understand us No manager but we manage One day they'll appreciate how we deviate the stained canvas Kill shit and do damage Cloud of smoke and I vanish Original, we different, a little bit outlandish [Verse 3: Choirboy] Blue-eyed rapper, crooked teeth with the [?] Don't like my music or my swag? Kiss my hairy ass [?], moving very fast Clownin' on you fake-ass hoes, you look hilarious [?] D-d-d-did I mention, dude Only rappers listenin' to Real, real music ain't died We living proof [Chorus: Ouija & Choirboy] We got that shit that make you slap yo'self (Bitch) The typa shit that make you ask yo'self (This) Ain't you tired of the same old dudes? Same book, same look, same views Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new) We doing something that these others can't do Different life, different site, different crew Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new) [Outro: Choirboy & Ouija] (In with the, in with the new) We doing something that these others can't do Different life, different site, different crew Out, out with the old In with the new (In with the, in with the new)