[Part 1: Do You-C Me]
[Sample:]
One more mile, til the road runs out
I'm about to drive to the ocean
I'm a try to swim from something, bigger than me
Kick off my shoes and swim good
And swim good
Take off this suit, and swim good
And swim good
I'm going out
Don't try stopping me
I'm going out
Don't try saving
No fair
No fair
No fear
Waves are watching me
[Verse 1:]
Wake up America, terrorists at your front door
With flows that will bisect through you like a kitana sword
Kitana whores, their eyes lower than some credit scores
Metaphors with natural fives to keep you leveled more
I'm from the city of wind
Where niggas lose everyday, but they're claiming to win
Where your best friend is actually a hater, well
Ain't no mountain high enough, as I climb in my Marvin gators
Life's a bitch, if it were easy it would be a ho
With a John trickling semen down her throat
And that's the game that we worship, Metra riding as I brainstorm
Without an umbrella or snow boots to keep my feet warm
Do you see me, the vision is getting clearer
The only person I judge is the one that's in the mirror
I'm blasting off like a Smith & Wesson
Fuck the drama - Dumb retards asking for more attention
Nah nah nah, that wasn't hard enough, I need for you to come harder than that. Niggas need to see you, You-C, listening isn't enough. I need for you to kill these niggas man, in Shaz we trust
They don't call me You-C for nothing
Well black Peter Parker, step on the mic and show us what you got tiger
[Verse 2:]
Do You-C Me? My rhymes are bright enough to cure blindness
Even see the truth inside of a liar
I'm feeling like a pirate, smacking all of the booties
From dimes and other cuties. Typing shit on a loose leaf
Now once again, who do you see?
Index, middle, ring, pinky, and the thumb
All rise for the rap judge, causing action
With a black submarine, inside a black queen
That was clean, well clean enough for the radio
Everywhere we go, it seems like a different ratio of women to men
Fuck a threesome again
But in order for that to happen, it would need to begin
Because I know a whole lot of bisexuals
But they never seems to be in the same room feeling flexible
That means they never wanna work it out like Kanye
All my niggas say ho! And all the hoes say hey!
I got a hundred million rappers on my wish list
I'm just praying that I kill them all, before I crash into a ditch
And catch on fire like a Phoenix. The crab is still steaming
If this song was like sex, then the beat is still screaming
A good demon, to a evil angel
You can't say loved or lived, without mentioning the Devil
That's the grammar if you looked in the mirror
Because to balance out life, you need the illness and the healer
The villain and the hero, the dealer and the addict
I wrote this in my grandmother's basement and not the attic
Inspiration for the iLL-minded
The mArkham Asylum, where I'm still crime fighting
YEAGER!!! Do You-C Me?
Welcome. We're still getting started
[Hook:]
I think I'm Bruce Wayne, Terry McGinnis
Slapping hoes, with my penis
One team, Shaz Krew
It's our time, so fuck you
[Skit:]
I wonder what the fuck is on TV
(Batman Beyond Theme)
No
{Happy New Year-}
No
{Ooo, last time Marshall got Gin drunk-}
No
{Boomdeyada instrumental}
Hey- Hey Carrington, get in here man your show's on
[Part 2: Boomdeyada]
[Sample:]
I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills
I love the fountains, I love the daffodils
I love the fire side, when do you like to know
Boomdeyada, boomdeyada, boomdeyada, boomdeyada
[Hook:]
I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills
I love the fountains, I love the daffodils
I love the fire side, when do you like to know
Boomdeyada, boomdeyada, boomdeyada, boomdeyada
[Verse 1:]
Turbulancing, I'm prancing without a dancer
I'm dashing through all these vixens, I'm mixing a new elixir
These niggers are on my leever, my level, without the treble
They don't wanna catch no trouble, cause secretly I'm a rebel
A revolution is coming, no masturbation is needed
Completed without a thought process, so now I'm bleeding
On a pad without the pen, but them pennies are adding up
Your two senses are like taxes, I promise I'm rad as fuck
Excuse my French, but these bitches like their kisses down low
Lower than a game of limbo, the limo just rides slow
Even if it's on a flat. Their raps are staler than Alka-Seltzer
Alcohol and Tylenol, like Smarties and some apple cider
Higher than the Appalachian, or a kooky Caucasian
In front of the nation, running game just like a PlayStation
I know this beat is childish
But I'm just tapping into my inner child, do you have a problem BITCH!
No misogynist
[Hook:]
[Verse 2:]
I know it sounds weird, but the weird shit is easy
Don't compare me to Tunechi, or Gucci, or Jeezy
I'm more like Escobar, 3 Stacks, and Currera
Friday the 13th, my birthday strikes terror
So why don't you gon' and lean back
Is that a fact? That you can rap, like Christmas presents on my lap
I guess you can call me Santa
But the rap game is sweeter than a Strawberry Fanta
My Mana is on 10, you hens can get your future cracked
Packed inside of a Lunchable, juggling all the truth in fact
I carry the city on my big shoulders
Move the boulder before I have a couple of Folders
Wake up and smell the coffee, fall down and taste defeat
This beat is really ugly, just like your uncles feet
Even my ignorance is wiser
Than a 1999er looking for a slut to shiner
YEAGER!
[Hook:]
[Skit:]
That's over, I wonder what else is on
Oooh, Star Wars is on
[Sample:]
The time has come. Execute Order 66
Yes my lord
No NO!
I can't. I don't wanna
I don't wanna kill them, I don't wanna kill them
Oh NO!
