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letra de 2020 - young whippersnapper

[verse 1]
you know i spit it so raw i need vaseline
bring a tear to your eye, my lips are visine
my rhymes and my wordplay are so f-cking nimble
that they put to shame olympic flips on high beams
storytelling vivid as sh-t that i’ve seen
kubricks do flip sh-t on my scenes
it’s “ooh!” it’s, “who’s this kid?” i’m like, “me”
if you’re too dim, ooh, then flip on high beams
yeah, you can holler around
i’ll be selling gold bars a dollar a pound
though i didn’t go far from my roots
i can still lay it down like a new john oliver
found my style out, you can count on me to wile out
at the corner of lindell and debaliviere now
if you really want caulk then get your tile out
if you really wanna battle then get your tile out
’cause you’re prolly gonna lose it, looking like a doofus
i got the jazz like a ’92 q-tip
you sound sad like a ’92 ludwig
pulling on your d-ck like a tiny tooth toothpick
prolly see me whopping on your heinie like, “who’s this
turning sh-t sad like tiny used shoes did?”
d-mn right, man, i misquoted hemingway
but you didn’t notice ’cause you didn’t know it anyway
you really think that you’re f-cking with me?
maybe i can serve you something for supper you’ll see
the fact that my disses are delicious, multifaceted, and heavensent
and if i say enough of ’em you might elect me president

[chorus]
i’m really thinking ’bout running in 2020 (x4)
i’m really thinking ’bout running in 2020
(i’ll be giving stump speeches, kissing babies)
i’m really thinking ’bout running in 2020
(catch me talking to soccer moms, prolly find me on some sh-t like)

[verse 2]
h-llo my fellow americans
i can swear to you we’ll never go there again
i can promise you every newborn child
gets a free ipad and a working pair of shins
it’s been bad and the hole we’re in is big but see
under me we’ll return to some decency
my opponent’s unprofessional and brutish
oh, i cannot f-cking do this, i’m about to f-cking lose it
you’re a f-cking piece of sh-t
you got a f-cking sector of america that’s racist
saying, “f-ck it, he’s a hit!”
now russia listens in when i try to call someone
and the dow is in a pit, how’s the f-cking wall coming?
i’m cough-dropping more frequently than cole does
i ain’t talking j. cole, man, i’m talking coal dust
i’ve been inside feeling far from optimistic, well
i’d take a walk if the environment existed still
carpet-bombed the middle east to lineolium
man, i think we bombed alaska for petrolium
i think it’s time for some change–aw cr-p
i’m done (why’s that?)
’cause he made another hat

[chorus]
i’m really hoping we make it 2020 (x4)
i’m really hoping we make it 2020
(i mean, at this rate i’m hoping we make it to 2018)
i’m really hoping we make it to 2020
(i mean, i hope we make it february)

- young whippersnapper

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