| Ain’t shit changed, still bony, no bowflex
|
| Googling some titties when my girl won’t give me throat sex
|
| (Swag) Stressing, strung out, kotex
|
| Wishing I could get my money back from them old checks
|
| American, proletariat, derelict
|
| No inheritance, heiresses think my lair is embarrassing
|
| I’m the stoner Spider-Man, ripping chemical vitamins
|
| Spit it, general cypherin', gripping emerald Heinekens
|
| I sold LP’s, smoked lb’s
|
| You smell me? |
| That’s Wells Beach
|
| I’m on my soil, chilling on a winter’s night
|
| I ran out of oil, that’s that shit I don’t like
|
| Came in the game with a brain, not an amulet
|
| I need the cannabis, not what is on the mannequin
|
| I procreated so you know I need the money
|
| Must’ve saw me looking scrawny and they thought he wasn’t hungry
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| Shit I’ll eat all the food in your apartment
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I might even eat the shit up out the garbage
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the whole turkey you ain’t gotta carve it
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the walls and the ceiling and the carpet
|
| Yo, it’s that ugly white rapper, no, not Paul Wall
|
| But the one from the North, doesn’t say «all y’all»
|
| I got a ten sack, that’s like eight more balls
|
| And I’m gonna blow trees till the acorns fall, ayup
|
| It’s like I’m riding in a beamer
|
| When I’m in a Nissan with Ryan Peters on the speakers, ayup
|
| Same shit, people that I came with
|
| Still up in Maine, bitch, I ain’t that famous
|
| And this isn’t commercial
|
| But it would be if I hadn’t been dropped from Universal
|
| They say you gotta pay to fly
|
| You want filets on a plane, well them stakes is high
|
| So I’m sitting at McDonald’s, I don’t got a dollar
|
| I might spit in it and then sip the saliva out the bottle
|
| I procreated so you know I need the money
|
| Must’ve saw me looking scrawny and they thought he wasn’t hungry
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| Shit I’ll eat all the food in your apartment
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I might even eat the shit up out the garbage
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the whole turkey you ain’t gotta carve it
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the walls and the ceiling and the carpet
|
| (Skinny women lose weight like)
|
| (Bring it)
|
| This is East of Eden mixed with Reasonable Doubt
|
| Made an album for the label but they never put it out
|
| Paid my dues now I’m waiting on a couch
|
| Made enough off rap for down payments on a house, ayup
|
| Come hither, the blunt and drum hitter
|
| The humble humdinger, the mumbling gunslinger, ayup
|
| Truck beds, middle class, bud hev
|
| Nickelback, little cash, enough said, cripple swag
|
| (Spizzy) Back like a tramp stamp locale
|
| Made a hundred grand in a month but I’m broke now
|
| (Spizzy) Luckily, that’s what my steez is
|
| Genius, covered in the crumbs from the Cheez-Its
|
| I got the fame minimal, nickname pivotal
|
| Whip game miserable, rib cage visible
|
| I procreated, man, you know I need the money
|
| Must’ve saw me looking scrawny and they thought he wasn’t hungry
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| Shit I’ll eat all the food in your apartment
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I might even eat the shit up out the garbage
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the whole turkey you ain’t gotta carve it
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the walls and the ceiling and the carpet
|
| (Skinny women lose weight like)
|
| (We really need food) |