Bowser’s Lament

[Intro]
Yo what's up
What's up pimp, hi
I'm feeling myself
Uh, didn't have to listen

[Verse 1]
Sit the fuck up, this is no time to recline
They say time is money, so I don't do free time
I'm so productive, I'm reproductive
My rhymes bree rhymes and knows rhymes bree rhymes
And knows bree D' lies
So there's no getting past it
I spit gold M.J's casket, ya'll plastic
I'm so above average, my flow's in the attic
I spit crack, get your hands raised like taxes
No practice, ye a five star general
A nice guy, my flow is a certified criminal
Uh, so they try to get rid of him and me
But my creativity is red like me and Italy

[Interlude]
That makes me say what's up pimp
Yo what's up pimp
Ye, Sly nigga
Uh, let it rise, that's that savage shit

[Verse 2]
Uh, South's champion
Fly Sly, they ask when he gon' land again
Its so anthemic, the flow's cancerous
Niggas want the game back, they asking what the ransom is
How about when a Megan Fox's tits in a pack of cigs
And a kitty cat and an outfit to attack it in (Meow)
Straight rancid, I'm dropping shit like laxatives
White fleece nigga off a Hypebeast Antenna
Tell everybody I'm too crack to sniff
And add it to the fact that every addict is addicted
I subtract wackness faster than Shack Pack shit
Average ass rappers can't see me like crack glasses
Ye, I get cabs and spit savage
Strictly black magic, ya'll are craptastic
You motherfuckin' rap actors take action and get a hall pass for this class act shit

[Outro]
They can't take it anymore
Let me just get out of here they can't, nah man