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letra de no more puns - the walkman

[intro]

[verse 1: the walkman]
let’s spin a web
the illest emcee on the interweb
onan on the beat
we chop we up to make the borscht i eat
done with the puns
up with the guns
up with the force fields
i’ll k!ll some kaiju with you
i won’t look behind you mind you
i find you unfit
you found me unfunded
befuddled and confused
the views were stuck in the hundreds
i wondered what happened
the blunders had fl-stered me
and adjusted me to catering my music to underlings
now here we are in future and you need company
you’re handing me a list of sh-t that you need done from me
i doubt that you could understand what you have done to me
but i can’t leave now because i’m stubborn
it’s stuck to me
what in the f-ck?
(what in the f-ck)
i mean excuse me, what’s up with that?
i’m popping like bubble wrap
i hop like i get a stack
yeah, just p-ss the tree to me actually spitting factually
casually make a masterpiece faster than master p

[verse 2: the walkman]
i said, just p-ss the tree to me actually spitting factually
casually make a masterpiece faster than master p
i got a snapple tea
and a p-ssion no catching no zs
it’s just me and the mic and beat and the reefer, it’s easy
i keep predicting my predicaments like nostradamus
a host of commas sent to send you to your foster mommas
when you get disowned because i owned you on the track like i had bought your fathers
i treat your padres like brooklyn dodgers
but no more puns
no more fun
cause no more funds
i’m done playing
but i’m still swinging for one more run
i’m ironic
a street icon be iconic
they think i can’t but if honest then i’m honored
to prove worth
that could’ve been my rap name
but i’m never getting that changed
cause i ain’t doing paperwork
i’d rather face the dirt and sell you what my hatred’s worth
and bite the bullet in your sights when it’s too late to search

- the walkman

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