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letra de wyd - the neverhood

[verse 1]

yo, let’s go man to man, i’ll rearrange your face like an anagram
and twist your f-cking arm into the shape of an ampersand
catch me lighting up a forest in a camper van
steady smelling like a f-cking tourist out in amsterdam
see i don’t have the least bit of concern
i’d say your girl is on my d-ck, but you won’t give her a turn
i’ll send you to a crematory where you’ll wither and burn
then afterwards i’mma ash my f-cking spliff in your urn
look, i’m on a roll like cans of chef boyardee
i’m high like a lawyer’s fee
i swear i get more -ss than a voyeur sees
at sororities, hiding in the courtyard trees
you rappers softer than the content of bazooka
you couldn’t be hard if you were in a staring contest with medusa
you stink more than a processed tin of tuna
man, somebody’s gotta introduce ya to the concept of a loofah
but enough about you though
‘cause honestly n0body gives a f-ck about you, bro
i’m the one that’s getting all the kudos
i’m the one your boo knows that give it to her raw like prosciutto
and i ain’t stopping ’til scorcese
makes a movie ‘bout me where shemar moore plays me
or swayze, motherf-ckers be like “you’re crazy”
i be like, yeah sure, maybe
but i flow strange like bus seat colors
eyes white and red like buzzfeed colors
you’s a bunch of ugly suckers
you should all quit rap and just be butlers
motherf-ckers, i’m on top like a salad plate
rappers better put on their battle paint
sh-t, i find it mad inane that there’s dudes that’ll hate
just because the sound of my voice makes their girlfriends salivate
that’s a pavlovian response
i ball harder than shaq, kobe, and lebron
when i rap, i am-ss copious applause
when y’all rap people clap slowly and just yawn

[instrumental break]

[verse 2]

who the f-ck is at my level of sk!ll?
i’m as difficult to p-ss as a federal bill
despite this, somehow rappers aren’t getting it still
i mean how much f-cking blood do you expect me to spill?
how many rappers must i recklessly k!ll?
how many verses must i wreck to be objectively ill
y’all often fake like an ecstasy pill, i’m a h-ll of a deal
i’ll skin you dogs like cruella de vil
i’m all that and a bag of chips
and i’m half convinced that all you rappers are m-s-ch-sts
‘cause while i’ve clearly proven that stepping to me is hazardous
for some reason you keep coming back just to get your -sses kicked
god, how sh-tty are y’all
i don’t think you’ve ever written something witty at all
if someone’s even listening to you, then there’s pity involved
whenever you pose a real threat, give me a call

- the neverhood

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