[Verse 1: Acumental]
Yo, yo
I wrote this song when I was out of ideas
A lobotomized fetus seeking dollar signs
Frequently neologize speeches, the bottom line reads:
To each his own, so you leeches need to hop off mine
Top all time, make a list and rank me in the league
Quite frankly, my name should be innately at the peak
I'm the flavor of the week twelve months in a row
So provocative, yo I could sell a hug to a ho
Now what do you know, maybe she could sell me one back
We ain't never gon' lack when it comes to the flow
No money, I'm broke trying to fill my wallet with a band of bills
Battling for balance like I'm walking on banana peels
A fusty fuddy-duddy futsing around
The rap god hands-on with an untouchable sound
Renowned throughout the country puffing on the skunkiest loud
Stuck in a cloud, kiss the sky before I plunge to the ground
An artsy fartsy martian, arsy barsy arsonist
Playing varsity first string, I starve for stardom
Barging in the room, kicking in the door
Barking at the moon like it was still hip in '84
The invigorated vigilante in a fit of rage
Invigilator visionary with the written page
So disengage bitch, Nate Kiz made this bass kick
You makeshift fakers ain't shit, hey!
To each his own, so you leeches need to hop off mine (2x)
[Verse 2: Terminal Knowledge]
Give me every fiber and morsel, get up out of your portal
Never mind if it's normal, never mind if it's morbidly sound
Turn it down, yo I'm trying to sleep
The sheep you counting, I'm counting on the lions to eat
Shit, I ain't dancin' on Ellen, I ain't asking, I'm telling
Giant mallet like Gallagher, I be smashing your melon
Got a plug for the socket, got a couple of options
Got 'em jumping in mosh pits, got 'em running for office
(Fuck it) I gave my best (fuck it) now take a rest
(Fuck it) You may get lucky like what could I say, I'm blessed
The sun, the moon, and the sky, the sudden move with the tide
Becoming computerized, nobody unsupervised
I be likely to falter, I be whiter than Walter
I be flyer than saucers, not a writer, an author
Hoping they hear the noise, you know we came to annoy
We aim to play with our toys, we came to skate and destroy
Aim to live an unapologetic life, fuck it, I'm pathetic
Yeah, I does it, but I doesn't want the credit
What a sleezball, sit by in the basement
Get higher than spaceships just to free-fall
Hip-hop hurray, ho, get out my way yo, this not my day, oh
Whoa, rock and roll not optional
When I drop dead, you better not stop the show
Hit it up!
Leeches was written by Acumental & Terminal Knowledge.
Leeches was produced by Nate Kiz.