BetterlatethanNever

• Written by 

Brad and Siris the Baddest bastard we back to back like some back up dancers,
Slam it on the tab cram more lettuce than subway sandwich packers,
Lack fundamentals I run the mentals with gunner tempo,
See your girl the stunner we sliding notes like a Portamento,
 
More eventful then the burning kettle lights camera action props and rentals,
children acting like Shirley temple
Went from, controversial to being one long commercial,
fuck with grannies day tablets for powder magic in purple,
 
Got a heavy handed flow have you yack a lunch when I smack a belly
spitting for the fame and same acclaim as late Makevelli
tell them silly suits shit hit the fan, they gon have to smell me,
Spread em on a sandwich spot a hater getting jam and Jelly
 
I'm Darth Vader in a war with sabers,
Push this game forward, like what James did for the Lakers
can't argue stats on the paper can run in league with the majors
been a walking contradiction like "assulama i'll lake em"
 
they dead in the dirt im penning em first,
Koctch and heckler I'm letting em burst just melting with thirst,
Plug my cable like IV drips never trip on what I dare do,
Send em back to Denny's scrubbing grease like combing Donald Trumps hairdo,
 
nine zero sound make you question beliefs like Cher do,
Cut em off fetish, leave a nasty trail like snail goo,
Sail through motivations ,
shootout with the feds man I'd rather fight for the plate than let it jail you
 
see my formers didn't know I had a killer side,
thought he pussy pink when really rabbits been waiting for chance to energize
Rather fail it where many didn't try,
picking sides in a climate that's polarized by political piss and wine
 
Its impossible, TVs been borderline straight unwatchable
and news been taking turns on glory holes and licking popsicles,
so much cock its comical,
Chronicle unfolding we divided like that playboy centerfolding
 
But now I digress, its my time next, my rhymes flex
you'd think im hood like ways that shy guys dress, stick em up like thigh high sex,
For that cake I'd pour the flour from that dry Pyrex,
finna tell em who came to eat you tell em I dine next,
 
Titanic Siris giving y'all the vessel see it sink in,
Have em reminiscing them days when pimpin Big Papa drinking,
microphone murder profession check the Linkedin,
who want it send your squad lay you next to "corps" like Jesse Pinkman!

Feedback & Comments

Attached media not accessible.

The owner took it down or changed the settings to private.

--:--

ABOUT THE ARTIST

OmegaSpark
Member since February 10 2015

View Play Counts


Cookin' something up, just wait a sec...