[Verse Term K] Yo, these kids want the raw? Stay patient, Im on it Drop shit like Mitt Romneys dog on vacation A bit groggy, all the way faded Term hit the stage like get rowdy yall And they aint listening They say I suck Golf balls through a garden hose Down to the particle Nose all full of carpet dope Sharpened notes Fart into a parking cone Yall would find more heart within a artichoke Inebriated stepson with a deviated septum Half these cats rhymes sound like they squeezed em out they rectum Wrecked em? Nearly killed em Call me Elvis They notify the public when the fuck I leave the building to my oneuppers Muck runners Gun lovers Sud chuggers Blood cutters Bud puffers Shuffling my feet just to suckle at the teat I rummage through a heap of trash for something I could eat Bump another key and then I bumble like a bee Got my foot inside my mouth, so I mumble when I speak Ass to the gas, stash underneath the seat We gun it like Ryan Dunn in a Porsche GT3 Hundred mile steeze with a dutch between his teeth Term pop the clutch and leave some rubber in the street Guzzle antifreeze hand full of barbiturates Im hard hittin spittin chawed carcinogens Cigar splittin with his thumbnail Bizarre liquid in my pants yo Im calling a slug trail You get low, we stay high like McDunnough Like that old blues record, the one that skipped Whoop you when I wanna When I wanna When I wanna When I wanna These kids belong to bebe Knee deep in feces, its easy to vacate Please clean your plate Please keep a straight face Read between the frequencies and wavelengths Im screaming Mayday! Mayday! We need the payday In Laymens terms, Term lays men on they backs in a casket My natural reaction to wackness Travel faster than a lancer in battle Like a cattle rancher Until I see cheese, we raise stakes Cause all I got is some Spooky Language Produced by Nate Kiz yall Cop the EP on May 8th!
term, mayday, mcdunnough, chawed, gt3