Big Bands - Cemetery Drive

Shorty thought she a thot, what’s the standard?

I wish a man would come and front, yeah that’s manhood

You ain’t that good but you call yourself a rapper

Yeah I play the drums but I ain’t a drummer dumbass

Oh was that harsh?

Ain’t speak my language can’t talk

I been that crazy vanguard, routine like Brady pass yards

Routine like 80's dance halls, making your lady branch off

I whip that lazy hands off, ain’t my Mercedes, thank God!

Ay yo move!

Why you standing still, oh you think too cool?

Don’t wanna' get sweaty no one stepping on your shoes

Don’t you know that newer things are meant to be used?

Holes in my kicks, big toes poking through

Bummy ass kid living rich, yeah

Spending more cash than I get, yeah

I don’t see the issue

Cancel my subscription

I need all my problems to be limited edition

My anxiety is holographic

Cool sounds when you scratch it

Self-love is ultra rare

I trade you if you have it

I was living manic I never had card sleeves

Now i live in panic I never let y’all see

My whole life full of bad motifs

I put the blade in my mouth just floss my teeth

Too busy tryna' stay human like I’m Jon Batiste

Or Osterman, got em' sweating like they whole suit fleece

Caught me dancing with myself, feel like Joaquin

I’m jokin' lil momma, I’m just tripping blowing off steam

Feeling like I’m Ozymandias when I’m off screen

The purple so provocative the whole fucking mosh leaning

Right stick hit coming to your breastplate

Cemetery drive motherfucker I’m just dead weight

Yeah, come alive, come alive, put up barricades

Half witted, outside, punk bitches, in Escalades

Ay!

back off the block like a piston

Ay!

fuck up anybody that don’t listen

Ay!

all of my rhinestones glisten

Ay!

dying in the mosh pit is my mission

I told my mother I’m a rock star, I think i shocked her

Double life, man is motherfucking Peter Parker

Pop star, breakin' hearts, boy is such a charmer

Acting like a virgin when your name is not Madonna

These pussies setting traps like they Veigar

Never get surprised boy I see you on the radar

Pull up to bank with some clips and a blazer

Bout' to flip the lid like a Motorola Razr

I’m a big fuck off monster bout' to fucking dynamax

May have lost my little mind but that was just a minor lapse

Fuck a crowd surf, jump off stage and hit them with a down attack

Electric type, paralysis, man we got them spinal taps

Fuck you and your momma’s house

This the type of shit they play that make you kick your momma out

Pussy boys ain’t spitting heat, fuck you talking bout'

Unless you talkin' bout how they leaving the pussies cotton-mouthed

Got em' like I don’t need it

Your whole square a bunch of hoes like a shotgun seen it

Pop trunk, y’all suck, fuck all ya’ll pissants

My shit is gas city while y’all sussied in the mid-lands

Ay, big bands, big bands, big bands

Wonderin' how the fuck in seven days I made six grand

Shit man this shit’s payin' cos' this young sir’s head got bars like a hitman

Ay!

back off the block like a piston

Ay!

fuck up anybody that don’t listen

Ay!

all of my rhinestones glisten

Ay!

dying in the mosh pit is my mission

Really been ‘bout, that rhythm I ride, my cynical mind

Been filling up all of my time, yeah I was born the wrong year

I see sociopathy, cocky but you like a poppy seed

A spec insignificant, so check what you gifted with

And check what you not I’m not impressed by your wit with this

So, sit and listen closely mostly posted killin' shit

Ill intent, tense muscles, caught up in the hustle bustle

What’s the cause and what’s the fuss?

I trust that I can piece the puzzle