Lyrics
I've got something for you
Can you tell me more?
Yeah come on in
When you come in close the door
I'm just sick and fucked up
At what's been going on
All these bastard ass fuck goblins
Shitting on my lawn
Pseudo street persona
Grovel to your owner
Glad I don't know you
That embarrassing shit that you do
Hit me with the goosebumps
I sit and laugh at your crew
But I'm sure it ain't that funny to you
I don't give a fuck
I just stay in the crease
Mind my own business
Until I need a release
I'm sick of old white men
Sick of terms and conditions
Sick of politicians
Sick of carbon footprints
Sick of tradition
Sick of public submission
Sick of all these bitch made vultures
Never asking permission
Sick of racism coming straight out the system
And everywhere else
I've got something for you
Can you tell me more?
Yeah come on in
When you come in close the door
I'm just sick and fucked up
About what's been going on
All these bastard ass fuck goblins
Shitting on my lawn
I've got something for you
Can you tell me more?
Yeah come on in
When you come in close the door
I'm just sick and fucked up
About what's been going on
All these bastard ass fuck goblins
Shitting on my lawn
I don't care if I get copied
'Cause when I was your age
I would maybe get sloppy
But I didn't take it quite to that level
Catch you acting like a sneaky little devil
It gets testy when you take it too far
Calling my family from a town out far
Fuck you kid, now I have your address
And in a second I could put your racist ass to bed
Just shut the fuck up and go with the flow
I'm sure I'll be running into your ass at the next show
It'll get nice and awkward when you see me
Give you a real overdose of the VV
(Shout out to wharfwit)
![Kiss My Super Bowl Ring [Explicit]](https://lastfm.freetls.fastly.net/i/u/300x300/96312fcc70ce31f29c4d34e802455ab9.jpg)
