"I Wanna Be The Superbug When I Grow Up" lyrics
Popped out on a nigga like the Hell Date midget
Then wash my feet in the river with 90 proof liquor until it kill the fish that were swimmin' in it
Dry my souls with Chanel linens as I cry my soul will be
Hell's Kitchen, a Cunio with a unique low, hittin' scale limits
Want nothin' good, but the good riddance, get it?
Cig lit it infant like Camel crushes in them fictions
Stand with us and get in it and get sticked with the tip of ice picks or picket fences
Hid the brick in the credenza next to cinnamon tinted lenses with mahogany frames suspended
PS1 18 district I'm the man hanging with pigeons
I probably came with a vengeance but I just can't remember
Shit it could be dangerous in this shit so I came with a range of some missiles a
Gang of different ranges of bitches and all 'em equipped with pistols with spangled glimmers as I explain
You get tangled up in it
Rearrange then get changed to a train to move quicker
It's the difference you niggas don't rap well, you just rap fast
Crazy how a nigga look like Maxwell with these rubber gloves and black Glad trash bags
Hid the bodies in the same spot we hid the cash at
Pretendin' airplanes in the night sky was [?] our flight but it was the one droppin' bombs over Baghdad
Contaminate the pipes and go wash your ass with a water bottle, get a populous
Yellow food for mosquitoes, now we all survivors
Traded two eights for the .38 to my partner
Outside the Costco this bomb I got from Obama so special, I called it Roscoe
Shit nigga, your affidavit? The matrix made it
It was your chance at escapin' and you, just didn't take it
And the shame is you just would've made it the
Musical blunt and it's safe to say that you should face it
So close to the, forbidden fruits of my labor I can almost taste it
Then wash my feet in the river with 90 proof liquor until it kill the fish that were swimmin' in it
Dry my souls with Chanel linens as I cry my soul will be
Hell's Kitchen, a Cunio with a unique low, hittin' scale limits
Want nothin' good, but the good riddance, get it?
Cig lit it infant like Camel crushes in them fictions
Stand with us and get in it and get sticked with the tip of ice picks or picket fences
Hid the brick in the credenza next to cinnamon tinted lenses with mahogany frames suspended
PS1 18 district I'm the man hanging with pigeons
I probably came with a vengeance but I just can't remember
Shit it could be dangerous in this shit so I came with a range of some missiles a
Gang of different ranges of bitches and all 'em equipped with pistols with spangled glimmers as I explain
You get tangled up in it
Rearrange then get changed to a train to move quicker
It's the difference you niggas don't rap well, you just rap fast
Crazy how a nigga look like Maxwell with these rubber gloves and black Glad trash bags
Hid the bodies in the same spot we hid the cash at
Pretendin' airplanes in the night sky was [?] our flight but it was the one droppin' bombs over Baghdad
Contaminate the pipes and go wash your ass with a water bottle, get a populous
Yellow food for mosquitoes, now we all survivors
Traded two eights for the .38 to my partner
Outside the Costco this bomb I got from Obama so special, I called it Roscoe
Shit nigga, your affidavit? The matrix made it
It was your chance at escapin' and you, just didn't take it
And the shame is you just would've made it the
Musical blunt and it's safe to say that you should face it
So close to the, forbidden fruits of my labor I can almost taste it
