GANGSTA TYPE SONG

[Intro: Teenage Disaster]
Yo this isn’t the beat I picked homie
(Yo just like, rock with it, rock with it for a minute, just rock)
Um, yeah I mean, I guess, I can record on it, hold on
(Yeah just try give it a try, give it a try)
I’m gonna open up my notepad real quick
(Yeah, alright, ready? Alright)
(DXRTY MERV)
I high-key thought the beat would just start here but it’s—
Is that a fucking cartoon bonk sound effect?
(Dude just shut the fuck up, make the song dude)
Yo, who fucking made this?
Alright that’s—, that’s fine, alright, yeah

[Verse 1: Teenage Disaster]
Fuckin' these hoes and countin' these 50’s
Scream at the cops like, bitch come and get me
I’m in the streets and I dance in the alleyway
I’ma run up on yo' block 'cause you hella gay

[Interlude 1: Teenage Disaster]
Yo was the—, was the gay thing not cool?
(Yeah, that’s—, that’s, chill on that a little bit)
I’m sorry (Yeah, it’s fine)
No I, here’s this, how about this

[Verse 2: Teenage Disaster]
Pistol packin', dick I’m jackin'
All yo' bitches fuckin' slackin'
Cop car crashing, 'cause I shot it
Bitch I’m hard, I do narcotics
Bitch gimme top in the back of the trap house
Call me Stuart Little stacking cheese like a damn mouse
I am based, you are cringe, feel my wrath, from within
I am hungry, eat din-din, don’t like monkey? That’s a sin

[Interlude 2: Teenage Disaster]
Yeah dude I don’t, I don't know about this song, like, I’m not really feeling it
(Dude just, just do inner trap, inner rap-man)
I, yeah, alright, just fuckin', yeah, alright
(You don’t even have to speak english, just don’t even speak english. Just go, go for it.)

[Verse 3: Teenage Disaster]
*Literal Gibberish*

[Interlude 3: Teenage Disaster, Christ Dillinger & Wendigo]
This just fuckin' sucks (Wait, what do you mean?)
I’m done, like, I’m good, I’ll see you later
(Wait you paid like $250 for this? You paid like $250 for this?)
No dude I just, I just don’t, I don’t know, I wish I had more experience with like—, like felonies and like crippling drug addictions and just like slingin' rocks, wait um, I don’t know
Yo, uh, Dillinger, you wanna hop on this?
Yeah wassup nigga, nah I mean, yeah I’m definitely tryna hop on this shit but I’m fresh off parole, I better consult my lawyer first
*Phone dialling followed by phone ringing*
Hi, you have reached Christ Dillinger's lawyer’s office, how can I help you?
*Dillinger talking*
Well uh, uh, yeah nah, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t recommend you doing this but, yeah I don’t know, the prosecution gonna have a hay-day with this one, but then again, if you go to court, I’m getting paid, so actually, you should definitely do this shit!

[Verse 4: Christ Dillinger]
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
And I dealt with the feds, now give me immunity
I’m still selling rocks like I fuck the community
I’m throwin' the xannies in the purse with the adderall
Step into my office, it’s right in this bathroom stall
Taking my products might lead to an overdose
Skeezing the dope and then going through comatose
Speaking of drug dealing, you know I do the most
Hoe always bitching, I turn her into a ghost
[?] I just typed in 83hades
I got myself money but I’m always angry
I don’t like white people and neither should you
And I be beefin' with all of the jews
I’m selling cocaine and some crack on my Snapchat
Right there on my lap, that’s where I keep the mac at
I’m blowing on [?] just like hockey
I’m fuckin' on bitches and sippin' on Sake
I’m taking the life of a nigga that cross me
I’m sellin' these drugs to these kids, they can’t stop me

[Bridge: Christ Dillinger]
Yeah nigga, yeah I'm finna beat the case nigga
Lawyer on deck nigga, his name is Abram nigga, he Jewish
That nigga’s name is Abram Silverstein nigga, I’m finna get off!

[Interlude 2: Teenage Disaster]
Alright so, this is recorded after Christ Dillinger’s part, um, a couple months later. Uh, he actually got arrested for the stuff he said in that song, he’s currently serving life. Um, his last request is that I actually spit some bars at the end of this song. Um, ayy

[Verse 5: Teenage Disaster]
Rocky Balboa, I’m throwin' these punches
I’m at your school and I’m stealin' yo' lunches
I got a strap but I ran out of bullets
Your hair is stupid, look like a mullet
Yeah, M, I, L, F, certified big breasts
(This bitch is like 40 years old, I don’t know, it’s kinda fuckin' weird, if I’m be honest.)
Got so many bars they call me rap-aholic
They said Teenage you can’t rap, I said that’s pretty accurate
Free Dillinger, we miss you
Wish you didn’t break the law, shouldn’t have fuckin' done that

[Outro: Teenage Disaster]
Spider Gang, I—, I guess
Minus—, minus one, minus one from Spider Gang
It's Christ Dillinger, 'cause he—
Ah, this is fuckin' stupid