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lirik lagu the bathroom sink – mars playground

[verse 1]

your favorite mans is back again
what happening? you’re coming back faster than a
man clad in black ransacking cribs
owned by white peeps who don’t pay taxes in
oh no
(mars, this oughta be that feeling-better-than-sodomy, revitalize-the-economy type sh-t, you feel me?)
i feel you, but why you gotta be putting politics onto me when you know i ’m appalled with all of these lobster eating lobbyists stomping on sovereignty, robbing me into poverty, blocking me from making beats for the populace
i’m a production prodigy
your favorite rapper’s already lost to me
’cause when i’m done with em they’ll need some therapy, psychology
and i’m coming for all their supporters, make em fall to me
but to all my superfans, my d-ck’s screaming, “get off of me”
it’s an atrocity, more head than a lobotomy
it’s not just women, that’s the only thing that bothers me

[verse 2]

but they don’t care unless you spitting something conscious
and hustle like a single momma in the projects
hoping things are looking better for her prospects
all the while being treated like an object
and water ain’t coming from the faucet
and father said f-ck it and awol’d it
and grandma demented and she off meds
d-mn, ma, you be running out of options
can’t soften til you’re locked in a coffin
can’t dodge it, dodge the fact that you’re rotting
in a nightmare, see your dreams dying right there
in front of your eyes, momma, you already got white hair
but why care? it always ends with the same thing
cause your kids are already in the gang gang
ring ring, my lady that’s your doorbell
mischief boy’s back again with the show and tell, b-tch
but here’s something cooler for the news to tell
soundcloud rappers beat his family with a gucci belt
’cause once every shot is drank and b00by felt
you need a sense of pride in which to lose yourself
so listen here, whether you watch the news or live here
sh-t, daddy just downed his fifth beer
finna be a long night when he gets here
made a long belch, got that long belt
now he’s searching for his baby momma; she a bombsh-ll, by the way
she’s hiding under the table where daddy keeps his vma
we all know that gangster spirit in his dna
he gonna let that masculinity be free today
he hops out of his whip just to give one
clock is ticking like a foreign blew a piston
it’s a wrap when little jonny gets busted
“this, son,” dad says, “is how the ghetto kept me wise”
word to big pun
i’ll discontinue the story right there
y’all too offended for my -ss to care
but i know for some of you that isn’t fair
for now just don’t go anywhere
i made it pretty clear, it ain’t hard to follow
i’m just another brown kid who did nothing wrong, though
you just blind to truth like feliciano
now i’m switching beats on you, cambiando

[pt 2]

(sir, sir, mister, mister, i-i-i read some of the bars you’re, you’re trying to spit and, i-i don’t know if that’s a good idea
i don’t
i don’t think they’re ready for this
i don’t
is this even legal?)

y’all don’t want it, y’all don’t want it
this the verse that make ’em vomit
this is marked explicit content
this ain’t for the women in the convent screaming mother mary from the seminary to the cemetery in they coffins
they’d tell me jesus always watching
and all the language, i should watch it
criticism, i just dodge it
i write whatever i f-cking want and if you gotta problem, i won’t solve it
but enough of all the talking
if you a baby just abort it
musical hurricane is forming
this your final f-ckin warning
this your final motherf-

(we need a beat)
(yeah!!!!)

[pt 3]

(screw all of y’all i’m not writing those d-mn ad libs)

[verse 1]

rolling wit the dogs, ops tryna put em in the kennel
i put the mental in experimental, chopping, put the pedal to the metal
bricks like legos, let go of my mothaf-ckin eggo
told a little boy with scoliosis that his spine look like a pretzel
born in the ghetto, guess it got me acting like a devil
s-ssy latina with a grudge, i don’t wanna f-cking settle

(alright, th-this the part of the song where, like, you talk about, like, what gang you reppin’ or some sh-t, like, like, like, how many old ladies you robbed today, or, like, man, like, how much- how many pounds of ice, uh, y-you got, uh . . . what the f-ck are these ad libs bruh?)
(the f-ck?)

[verse 2]

young gr-sshopper in the building, filled it with the bros, yeah, boy, i k!lled it
milled up a couple mils tryna pay the bills, yeah
ice dripping water, bout to grow a couple gills, yeah
fish for the next dish, i ain’t talking seafood
we look for consent, don’t wanna get #metoo’d
people tryna rap with their f-cking t–th full
lethal with the flow, bout to k!ll a p-
for the money and the cash
for the threads and the clothes
for the party, for the bash
for the women and the
for the life, for the style
for the bullet and the trigger
going hard, going wild
for my homies and myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

(never again)

- mars playground

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