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lirik lagu knock! knock! – belaganas

[intro]

[verse 1: shanker]
first things first
f-ck your pop culture
you not my main girl, you’re just a prop-holder
was on some boy sh-t
then we got older
leave ’em like a stuck pig
not kosher
i’m a stockholder
sh-t is exponential
way we from underground to now i meant to dent the rental
all these severed heads and cheddar are getting wet and sentimental
mister never temperamental but my motherf-cking temper mental
catch me on cop car, stifle white noise
or maybe chilling with a choker and a viceroy
shoutout metro
la croix getcha clout central
f-ck y’all no love but ya found menthol
this sound mental only f-ck with proletarians
backwoods, pink jeep, cheetah pulling chariot
the game whack guess i gotta come and carry it
gemini moon but this the age of the aquarius

[verse 2: joey j]
dirty rotten scoundrel yes i am the f-cking overlord
pretty b-tches posing in my bedroom on my posterboard
b-tch im bubble-popping blowing up like violet beauregarde
type of sh-t where you can nod your head before the chorus starts
p-rno stars of rap because we f-cking up the game
never trust a punk whose sustenance is social justice fame
it’s all a cl-sterf-ck of fakes that only say the sh-t they say
because they fester from the ruckus when their twitters percolate
i pity sh-tty inner-city kids pretending to be indie
when they really ripping off these f-cking hippies
b-ss is h-tting thicker than some skippy mixed with honey
ill as f-ck – my nose is runny
been a b-m but i got b-tches kissing on me
f-ck your rollie rollie rollie
f-ck your homies y’all is phony
me and shanker busting out the hokey pokey
sh-t is ironic but
b-tch i’m bionic
y’all- b-tches keep knocking
f-ck all of that talking

[hook 1]
tryna spit it off top
stove-top rhyming
speakers going
“yah! yah!”
middle digit climb to the sky
b-tch we sayin’ hi
who the cops got?
at your door like:
“knock! knock! knock! knock!”

[verse 3: shanker]
my old girl
been with every man across the block
xanny dealing so i bought and then i called the cops
f-ck you
i’m with my entourage on the block
carry proper bombs in our pocket drop a jock
off the top this is for the one who go and tell ya mamas
go f-ck yourself love from 1/2 of the belaganas
my new girl got an l in honors
she pray a lot cause she can’t spell the prada
but i can smell the product
and i can stomach that
she need her muzzle back
while i’m b-mping mumble rap
something boutta stump a track
j and shank are something whack
boys are back and come for facts
i’m chilling up with god and stunting with that f-cking humble brag

[verse 4: joey j]
drugs are in my duffel bag
popping like some bubble wrap
couple drags they puncture through my lungs like f-cking thumb-a-tacks
relax
come to that conclusion that my stuff is whack
but these brats still be always tryna f-cking hump my -ss
i’m the bubba gump of rap
all you other chumps are shrimp
puffing hemp
other kids are just convinced they got the illest tumblr pics
suck a d-ck
i be chugging from the plumpest tits
busting fits and cussing like my nuts were twist
slumped inside my crib rhyming sh-t
i am in your nightmare b-tch
tight as p-ssy is without the hymen rip
turn my music up this b-tch is lit as soon as i’m in it
open up the door motherf-cker this some 5-0 sh-t

[hook]

[outro]

- belaganas

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