With Us

Lyrics

[Intro; Cage] Yo, Weathermen, Molemen, Copywrite '78 and… King! [Verse 1: Cage] Somebody better call the cops! We'll throw rocks and smash shit 'Cause I'm down to the most intricate ligament detachment action Closed-captions are the gross fractions Of the percentage of songwriters that host caskets Wanna see the Cage album or get clapped to hear it? Bludgeon you to death, minutes later shooting your spirit Shooting a porn I got a quick role, empty the clip In this bitch, fuck the wound 'til the slug's up in my dick hole Wasting mine and the crowd's time Thought you had beef standing there with a cow's spine And I'm eating the heart Get beaten apart, painting with your arms, leaking the art Somebody get this kid a bandage While I'm stabbing where your adrenaline gland is in front of cameras Trying to balance a nuclear warhead on your forehead Pulling soul food through your stomach to dip the cornbread [Hook: Copywrite] Fucking with us, we'll leave you stuck in the dirt With your fiancé and my fingers up in her skirt Weathermen for life as long as I'm stuck on the Earth And if a bitch don't swallow, what the fuck is she worth? (We get grimy!) Haven't showered for days, flies behind me (Grimy!) I can pick your lock in six seconds—time me (Grimy!) Ain't give a shit if you like me or don't like me As long as when you see us, you keep your mouth locked tightly [Verse 2: Copywrite] You'll shit your drawers before I spit two bars I'm everything you're ashamed to admit you are When God said, "Let there be light," I appeared You thought I debuted on World Premiere? I was here Made a blind man tell me what color my eyes are Made a deaf girl complain on what level the highs are Last one to cyph with us, I sliced them up. To whom I'm shitting on, you ain't nice enough to waste a written on The Weathermen, we're coming up to get you I can't think of a stage name dumb enough to fit you, I'll hit you With six two-by-fours, crews I floor Pick up his watch, turn to his bitch like, "You my whore!" I'm too hot—stop this man. When I was born Third-degree burns were left on the doctor's hands You want mine? The mic's your dad's buckle These punchlines are spiked with brass knuckles Underwater I breathe and move quicker than you I know heads that been dead for decades sicker than you They're my dogs, I'll sick 'em on you, and my pets Are vicious. Shit, I'm the owner—go fetch my slippers Besides us, there ain't too many ripping My brainstorm floods with enough thought for y'all to skinny-dip in And I forever burn steady since Adam Was put in a garden. If y'all weren't ready, you shouldn't have started [Hook: Copywrite] Fucking with us, we'll leave you stuck in the dirt With your fiancé and my fingers up in her skirt Weathermen for life as long as I'm stuck on the Earth And if a bitch don't swallow, what the fuck is she worth? (We get grimy!) Haven't showered for days, flies behind me (Grimy!) I can pick your lock in six seconds—time me (Grimy!) Ain't give a shit if you like me or don't like me As long as when you see us, you keep your mouth locked tightly