FITTING ROOM

Hey, (Weird Sounds)
Shoutout-shoutout
Jen, shoutout housecat
Eastside scum, hysteria..
Hurtgang..

Bitch im in tokyo
Higher up than a rolling stone
Who the man that be in my room
While I’m-tryna catch a Z-or-two
My interviews overdue, bring
Death to the clones of a
Spider crew
No hate, just a fuck you too
Not pressed by what you do
I’m M-C let the mic confuse
It’s righteous soul food, for
The album do, bitch
I don’t wanna follow rules

Shameful that the underground
Never heard of me
Bagel-put a
Hole in you at the bakery
Staple your jugular
Maple syrup got me
Ostrich binocular
Infamous popular
Penmanship doctorate
Paying for features, i’m doing
The opposite
Wouldn’t even pay myself
As a customer, cus i’m lazy
Like a slug with a caliber
She for the streets why the fuck
Do you follow her-

(grunts because
I ran out of mangos)

Yuh
Polta-polta-polta-poltergeist
Shake the house up
Fuck is your advice?
In the boof wit k-pin-tommy
We workin forty hours
Feel the power, rollin sour
Eddie bower, coward tower
Over other rapper niggas who
Allow it-

Fouls like a wolf i howl
No cowl, my fro in need of a shower
Should i cut it or not
That’s not the plot
Versatile bailing me out the box
Kick rocks, slipknot, not trip
Sit, sick, stick, flip, grip, Glock

Slipped now im so sick
My sickness is potent
Pour it till filled
Still poor shit please stop