 Dots. Yo, Peters. Yeah, filthy funk. Copyright. Yo, hey, yo, Okie-Dog, let me kick this off with some dope accrues Overdose off the blows, bars strong as pot and coke Spitting with a croaky fro, I'm the illest block on coma toast Light fading, see me reaching for the Holy Ghost Vodka dope rap, vocal tracks with a broken nose Hold the phone, you can see me sitting on my golden throne So strong that I could run a marathon with broken bones My vocal tone leaves bogus clones going home Master of rap, rap, rap, backslap Whack-cat and chat-crap, you disappear quicker than a Snapchat So that's that, the fat cat's back, tit-tat-tat Snack-a-jap, rap, snapper-rapper like a match-brack Back-pap, full of severed heads There's eleven dead fellas in the cellar One more in the way, ten of beds Tell em' I'm just doing what the devil said Don't shoot the messenger and then I'll fled back down to hell Listen, it's unanimous, go give me the beat We'll teach the amateur, don't fuck with us We'll get a beat and deep in reality Filthy funk familiar, eating people like savages Animals on the beats and believe I'm leaving them damages I'm an anarchist, eager to preach the barricade Smashing it with the speech, I'm a demon breathing in cannabis We feeling fabulous, fucking phenomenal Rocketing from the bottom to the top, like we unstoppable Let me shut it down, down Now we're never loud as ever, shouting out to crowds To bring the town together, ounce of pressure Down, drowning in a pound of cheddar We switch it up, put them like now We never sounding better, I leave them traumatised Slicing with the power shredder, sour bread is hating But aching to get ahead, I see the jealousy Definitely get the best of the second best I'm on the rebels' quest, messing with the devil's head See, our murder sprees insane, we came for the cake Leaving burgundy and brained my grains for the fake Put you on murals, for murals might exchange in the states Get a currency exchange like Wayne did with Drake See, we shoot long range, rollin' round with tinny windows Rollin' down and no, not for a great Poupon trade Produced in house, but still your guests left on your bars Like futon friends And if she's self-respecting, bitch, I'll bilge in seconds Change thoughts, ADD Like I'm self-reflecting, too grimy to pass health inspection Melt your weapon, my psychiatrist can't even help this session Dog, you bite plain with light, shame you fuckin' up quotes Got a migraine in my vein, cause nothin' but dope hoes She just wanna suck a dick and get nothin' to throw You stupid