Rooftop - Das Racist, Heems

Das Racist as an end to mindwash religion

Nowhere politics, bogus philosophies

Probably, possibly a mockery of monarchy

I’m complex like Cournot’s duopoly quantities

Rooftop, like we bringin' '88 back

White girls, Big Wheels, fortunes, Sajak

Mixtapes, many tapes, Mel Gibson «Payback»

Laid back, stay crack, eat those, stay fat

Engine, engine number nine

I’m on that New York transit line

I’m ill, everything I touch is a grill

With diamonds that’s chill, for real, I’m I’ll

I’m wack, like You, Me and Dupree

I’m ill like buy one get one free

I’m wack, like nobody wanna touch me

I’m ill like making jokes and burning Dutchies

I’m cliche, I feel as high as a rooftop

Contradict myself in raps like 2Pac

I ride gnarly till I’m Farley that’s dearly departed

And the party don’t start till I’m gettin' it started

When the party get started, then I’ll get with ya darlin

I give it cause she want it, then I dip from your darlin

Before the next morning, I won’t give her no warnin'

I’m listening to Warning, I’m out the door stormin'

Maybe towards like a rooftop or a barbecue or somethin'

Rooftop

Rooftop

Rooftop

Rooftop

Meet the man of your dreams about dyin'

Came up in the land of the free if y’all buyin'

When he ain’t cheatin' or stealin' it’s all lyin'

On the 108th Street in Queens you might find 'em

Wildin', out for the night, dusk and daytime

Where the fuck you find the guff to even say rhymes

Get yourself stuffed by three browns and a beige guy

Hold down the fort and raise the roof at the same time

Das Racist, goodness gracious

Great balls of 8 Balls smooshed in faces

Break falls with cake, ya’ll hood rich famous

Lifestyles is type wild, ditch the cages

All the rage, kid, save your dollars

Cop that for moms, dads, nanas, papas

Top hats and big wigs powdered proper

So on the money he’s a founding father

Dodger, conniver, preach to choirs

Lied when he said his pants was on fire

Ants in his pants, your uncle’s none wiser

Escape with a string and a toothpick, MacGyver

Fuck what them dumb youngster crews pop

Who hot?

Who got they shoes stepped on on whose block?

No one ever heard of 'em yet like they some cool cops

When that shit drop it hit like it fell from a

Heh, third verse, similar to the first two

Beat sounds hard like somebody finna hurt you, right?

Hey kids, you like Don Imus?

Das Racist

Under your eyelids, phosphenes

A vase clean bizarro nasty

See me like it’s fuckin' up your eyes, blepharoplasty

Wikipedia that, if you didn’t know

We aight but media cats think we clever though

Are we?

You may never know

Speedy Gonzales couldn’t see how quick the cheddar go

Smartest dumb guys in the room

Run guys, it’s the mulatto Jeff Koons

They taco the best balloons

That’s breasts, you goons

I’mma festoon the room

Like Daniel Day-Lewis

They couldn’t even hold a candle if they Buddhist

(get that? hahahahahaha)

Yeah we eating!

Aw made you soup

You a slave to a bleep in the beat loop

Play it in your Jeep, coupe, hooptie or beetroot juice-powered hippie van

Never really need to ask «Can he?»

«Yeah, Vic he can»

He like a Spick He-man

Master of the universe, nobody can doo-doo worse

Than I do-do