Diddy ahh blud goonslop

T series done got the nappy gatt on the smiler?

Done happy slappy like my youtube compiler

One big month done right, he had a fright

Capped a mat that done smite like bite and right

We don’t know how and now he gone everynight

They gonna be in dead space come clearsight on the mite buster

It’s tight when they done gone to war, whore, little more please adore

No gore, no violence on the radio with pay to go

With no bread gotten so no head shottin on the compton blockin’

But Thick daddy done turn tv’s on like cat nail filers

Tha done there been that style flow gon’ happy trails floor tilers

And twin done bricked the pad up wit da wrong passcode nodes

And everyone here was on big data crappy chodes

Surveillance done fear yo mind jump in the meer and get slimed brochacho

It be alright when those who know got yo mango phonk bros on the down low

Alight my fright in a tornado fight fire flights to chicago on a moisty mire tight rope

It done sucked yo hope with no nope to spare and no gyatts to grope like you a diddy ahh blud

Done made you no gud, hood,

under which yo engine of a brain ain’t churnin’ burnin’ learnin’ them facts,

bout maps graphs and charts you use to find more hoes and shoes like nike done

Stole your bands and you never go thrift shoppin again online,

fine, pay it when you swimmin’ in the brine at my time,

share pool, king K rool rule 34 made yo feet drool at school,

l you be damn tools with aura, torah, read it done have dreams bout sodom and gomorrah lore

Uhhh, fore done bore us, have more spores than a fungus

cumulonimbus clouds big chungus hung us on the wire

And left us out to dry with no dreams which we aspire

To, have a fire in the tire mcgyver a match to light the sky-uh

Have big steppers than goon all day and never go to bat

Gat happy triggers with sticky fingers from the gyatt,

No He-man, the flat sack in the icecream shorts,

and the champion slides done cheaper than three-quartz,

courts, they done stacked with kangaroo dung,

and slap happy actors,

what else you spose’d to do to make tha crack daddies happy,

done give up the nappy and the durag,

on the dog’s head in the youtube short big dawgs gone sue you like boba fett

Under zoomer gone hedge a bet on tha fund, it’s done, hon.

Yeah, no more e-thrift runs, you done gun’ clapping when the tongue lands, in yo nether regions

Like a minecraft portal it turn yo hands purple in the worrel, ernest P., goofy ahh face

Slappin yo creddy card in the mac 10 chamber of the internet,

hard, with smack daddy gay cornsites and youtube creamed porn reviews,

it done made us blue, in the neck.

Heck, we done gone to war; hammers of thor, more gore for the pores.

The fat cat shat on the mat cause the wildfire in the sock drawer,

was caused by the clothes dryer in the tour guide’s four corners basement,

like a utah storm flowin to the east coast it torn,

Done sword, to rip yo head up like children of the corn,

it was born, Showin the beast mode hype chuds,

it ain’t grease in yo home, it the meat packin’ throne you sit on,

with forlorn autographs and windows vista auto chaps;

it like a british dealershap,

you buy a honda and you cant win the fondler’s fappin’ cap,

mat, the thing in yo house you done box it up like a fortnite map,

player,

oscar mayer comin for that ridable accent mark you bouncin’ on,

like a bull blown up of latex at a rodeo sponsored by firestone,

it glowne like light storm in height bones.