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The intelligence level is reduced a bit I feel like the world don't like me I just don't get it, like if you wanna fight me, then fight me A Spike Lee joint to wear the rest of the day down There ain't no point to lay round lounging When eight pounds of K rounds stay in your draws hiding I can feel angels and devils fighting Biting, and crying out for me to stop hyping up an EP That ain't likely to hit the charts Like pop tarts, and Trojan biremes That didn't make sense did it I can't find the rest of my brain, someone must have hid it And I'm on you like the Chronicles of Riddick Daniel Lim is getting diminished Somebody please tell Emily Devine she still classifies as a preteen So please go back to preschool reading While I keep playing with all this dough, kneading She won't hear this, so it's fine for that to be leaking Three spleens I cut out of myself, easily Sellin' free lean with green beans And running with Gabbie, and Hardeep Obviously, I'm sorry if it hurts For you to get down, beat down more than Captain Kirk Alert, alert A butthurt feminist I reminisce about She blocked me Whatever But now I'm done with that Hop out my flat A lumberjack takin' me to Rumba Rapids They love to talk all that bologna So what happens when I get on ya And tell 'em all that Alex really wants to get off with Tanya Rollin' round in a three-wheeler, with an orange peeler Hopin' to see my dealer, he's a healer So I speak with him about the time Shun never made a move on Marina 'Cause it kinda reminds of the time I tried to move to Sh- Never mind That doesn't really matter The fact is the stacks is getting fatter and fatter I batter and batter, your face so pale, you start to look like the Mad Hatter I won't bait you out, but I'm talkin' to you Ain't nobody been whacker I knock you out 'til your skull shatters And scatters all of your brain matter on the Vatican floor Here, take these donations, you'll need 'em for child support I go acapella, I don't need a beat's support A Ouija board mixed with C Minor chords leaves a different taste Like cranberry sauce I'm happy to stick a fork in the neck of Jasper Gaunt I'm just too raw I'm bound to cause frowns, 'til I hang myself upside-down with a phoneless cord No support comes to you when I'm hunting you down Like a god damn Liam Neeson story