Scum In Amerika

[Verse 1: Big Baby Gandhi]
I'm chilling in the hood with my people
Refills of E pills, y'all already know how the weed feels
Spin sentence (?) mathematical, let you go with a sabbatical
She glad I pulled out when I did, though
She love the kid, yo, pull out a dildo for real, yo
Shorts down to the steel toe(?), who really ill though?
Y'all alright, but it's mostly the Gandhi
My new wife is that asti spumante
You getting married to the game like Jumanji
I'm sipping lemonade in the shade by a palm tree
Richard Roundtree style freestyle zombie
Gandhi, list of places you can find me:
Queens borough, Queens borough, Queens borough
Might sit by a pond like I'm Thoreau (Queens!)
Peep the rhyme style, sonny
Tryna work my way to the prime time money
Who wanna dine on dimes(?) five times twenty
Five nine Tims on, five five ugly
Big baby, got my hand on a labia
Habeas corpus, I'm a corpse in Arabia
Poor in Bangladesh, scum in America
Word, word, I'm just scum in America
Been on the bottom and the bottom been on me
Plans to make grands from the grams or a Grammy
Keep the grams handy and thank your grandmammy
Or else, you could get took like candy
From a baby, but not the Big Baby
Nah, never that, not the Big Baby
Late night show with the rap George Lopez
Cooling by the back door with crackwhores and dopeheads
Black jeans and pro Keds, it's like a uniform
Flip the script from Sanskrit to Cuneiform
Forty-year-old rappers move with the coolie on (What else?)
I'm in the back of a limo eating Grey Poupon
I've been rhyming since the mayor was Giulian
Rhyming since Bloomberg, you sitting in your room, nerd
Holla, Big Baby, do a lot of things make them chickens go crazy
Holla, Big Baby, do a lot of things make them chickens go crazy
Holla, Big Baby, do a lot of things make them chickens go crazy
Holla, Big Baby, do a lot of things make them chickens go crazy
Holla, Big Baby

[Verse 2: Big Baby Gandhi]
Y'all rhyme for white girl, I rhyme for Sean Price
Y'all lying about white girl, I rhyme like five mics
Remind 'em of Mike Tys, find 'em I might bite
Rappers at home (?) might be found with the night light
Fuck around, I win six rings like Mike might
Grew up with a knife, I could slice a nice slice
Nah, but yo, chill, the Gandhi non-violent
Find me at the park, 'fore you find me, start wilding
My bad, that's that immigrant speak
Only eat on the meat that the immigrants eat
Grew up on healthy diet of chickens with beans
They like, Gandhi yo, why you talk a lot of shit
I'm like yo, why you look like Peja Stojakavic
I'm like, ma why you look like Marshawn Lynch?
Last time I seen her, I ain't have a hardon since
Team's like Gandhi, you keeping it too real
I put on Arcade Fire and she switched it to Dru Hill
Damn it, I'm too ill, too skilled
If I don't get hands on money then who will?
Mahatma, damn, I'm up in the game now
Never be the same now
Shine off the chain, blaaaooowww
Whole team like "How?"
That's right, all my homies haters
See me on the block and they do opponents favors