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lirik lagu duke westlake cypher – a few boys

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[verse 1: dc]

me losing doesn’t make sense, like hashtags on facebook
all these rappers going down like the path that mysp-ce took
i love the taste of victory, this game must be a great cook
i’m getting girls that are fine, and i’m not talking a late book
i’m back to the basics, whack rappers just face it
i slap tracks in the face with a pack of rats from my bas-m-nt
my facts are your favorites, i’m p-ssing with a’s
’cause i just copy-and-paste and go to the lab and make amazing hits
you think i’m a mess? well, i think you’re amanda bynes
try and find a rapper who can plan a line as grand as mine
you rappers can go blow me, like i was dan the dandelion
i demand you understand i make thunder like kevin durant with time
go hard like water in a freezer
if life’s a movie, i’m sneaking whoppers in the theater
following the leader while i’m brawling with the teacher
got a leg up on the comp while i’m slaughtering a femur

[verse 2: walker m]

really though, who would wanna tussle with us?
we be straight flexing brawn and muscles and stuff
while we’re puff-puff-p-ssing on a couple of blunts
soon enough, we’ll be high as carl and russell in “up”
’cause eating cheese puffs and watching p-rn are your hobbies
so cl!ck redtube and watch me score with your mommy
while you’re sitting on the floor, d-ck sore and you’re sobbing
i’ll spit with the flow of omi with the orb of tornami
it’s kinda obvious i’m bomb as a mosque is
so if you wanna talk sh-t, you gotta be cautious
’cause either i be hot and obnoxious, or a prodigy
if we’re talking honestly, ’cause modesty’s nonsense
hot chicks used to burn me like bunsen did
then they’d come to senses and rush to bed
once i said, “i support women’s rights
’cause when i tear that -ss up, they’ll be nothing left”

[verse 3: dc]

now who don’t know me? ha, trick question
that’s a good one to keep all of ya’ll guessing
now listen, take notes, and learn a lesson
find out when i’m around, why your girl’s always undressing
everybody wants me, like 90’s kids and moon shoes
i’m erupting, like when mt. st. helens blew
if you’re messing with me, then you best beware, dude
i’ll leave you flipping out like justin bieber’s old hairdo
all my gear tailored, call me miss swift
other rappers get dismissed, disappearing like milk in swiss miss
and we’re narcissistic boys of business and mischief
and get this – we use haters to fuel us like photosynthesis
hoes go loco when they hear the flow of dc
rapping ’til we’re known and have shows on every tv
i’m the one that people want, like mario – you’re luigi
you should know the chicken crossed the road to come and see me

[verse 4: walker m]

these rappers asked who we were; well they checked, now they’re fearing us
our wit will leave this simpletons vexed and delirious
these sick raps i throw give your boy a raspy throat
’cause i got the nasty flow like you guessed it – a period, ugh
bet my lyrics might cause you to vomit
so best be popping a lozenge while we’re constantly mocking
these “bombs you drop,” they’re all talk, like saddam’s
and we the hip hop jihad squad, call me muhammad
or call me bahamut, summoned to spit fire
so put up your bic lighters for love and fifth of meister
shoving the victimizers, they’re getting no sympathy
stick to nose-picking, ’cause f-ck it, i’m getting wiser
chicks are fickle, don’t sit and mingle
flip the finger, don’t stick to simple
i be living the suite life, whipping a sweet ride
tipton in the seat while i shift the prndl

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