G6.2 5200

[Intro]
Oh shit, nigga
Damn, we done-done it again
We done-done it again
It's like magic, nigga
Y'all, we know we gon' have 5200
You dead, know what I'm saying? (5200)
In the house
We ain't stoppin'
We ain't stoppin' for nothin'
We makin' millions, nigga
We makin' billions, nigga
We makin' congillions, brah
We only hear our bars, homie

[Verse 1]
Monumental with these pens and pencils
Create a masterpiece from scratch
Y'all niggas using fucking stencils
And the line's still crooked
Saw an opportunity and then I took it
By the throne and fucking shook it
Got bars like a really good jazz player
Got bars like the Raiders got bad players
Killing niggas like they call me B. Man Slayem
And I slayer-layer in the bed and peelin' many layers
This is a fun-loving track where I rap about this and that
Giving mental depth to all you mental cats
My mental raps run mental tracks around all of your mental laps
If your mental's lax, taking mental naps and missing mental lapse
Out of shape, your momma's so damn fat we're outta space
Gotta take her ass off planet into outer space
I'm entering your inner ear
Hear it here, kind of queer
But please don't fear
I only took your mom to second base

[Interlude]
Hahah!
Yeah!
Whaddapwhaddapwhaddapwhaddap
It's your boy once again
Back again, here again
Always again, you're my friend
What up?

- Ad-lib -

[Verse 2]
Black and white, you could call me Eric Andre
My body's shaped like a cumin, call me mandrake
Harder than four-forty statements
I ain't ever been a kitty
You can call me raps' man-drake
Told my momma: "I ain't cussin no more"
Like the bartender dead
Over niggas' heads like a lightbulb
Or an exclamation mark
Escapades and excavation parks
With extra hating guards, extra stating farts
Harder than the hardest jungle
More obscure than Mr. Bungle
Fucking everything like buckle
Oops I'm sorry momma
Eating M&Ms, watching Friends
Probably drink a little too much
My night's at its end

My night's at its end

(They go hard)