Brain Fart/Masterpiece BabyTron

[Part I: Brain Fart]

[Intro]
(ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia)

[Verse]
I just turned my Sunkist pitch black like a solar eclipse (Long live $cam)
Ayy, bitch, it's bite-down season, see a play, put my molars in it (Nyah)
Get a soda, spike that ho just like Samoa Joe
Walkin' Bourbon Street, I'm blowin' Gumbo with some NOLA hoes
My white boy rollin' off an X in Oba mode
(Damn, Machu, why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
(SBDSM)
Trizzy in my sprizzy, hell nah, this ain't Coca-Cola, bro
Probably wonderin' how the kitchen hot, thinkin' the yola snow
Treat the zotti like some chicken noodle soup and blow a 'bow
It ain't East to West, just in the city, ball from coast to coast
Dime, dime, dime, dime, dime, we can go ho for ho
Spot, it's lookin' like an army base, we can go pole for pole
Havе my steppers step all on your stеppers if we toe to toe
You the type to hit the club with no pape' just to go to go
When you down, they kick you, when you up, they use they hands
When you down, you see-through, when you up, you they mans
Sad to say it, that's just life, though
Watch your step and treat our presence like a tightrope
Yeah, he got a heater, but ain't hittin' shots, he ice cold
Tuh, ayy
281 number playin' on my phone like who's this, Mike Jones?
Spitting game to your bitch while you with her, you would think I'm Tyrone, I bet I fuck her
Blowin' zagazas in Challies, it's a redeye summer
Nothin' you can do to make bro miss, he got a deadeye jumper
Best bet is duckin' your head
Man, it's field goal percentage, still a hundred percent
Ain't a water gun, but just know, if he up it, you drenched
Cuddy got gardener gloves, he in here touchin' the fent'
Ho think I care that I found out she out here fuckin' again
Punch God, made her hit her knees and come and repent
Why she think we go together when I'm bustin' her friend?
Better chill out, all that splurgin', watch that budget for rent
Now you know you strugglin', now you know you hurtin'
Actin' like you up, but your Purple jeans empty, so you know you purpin'
Bossman, no Dlow
Things change nowadays, it ain't no G-code, what the fuck the streets on?
Flash make him emote
Pull up cannon like I'm tryna get some B-roll
Blew up like some C-4
I've been tryna see bro
I can't find him out in traffic, think his seats low
(All that motherfuckin' hidin')
Open fire on an opp, he leave the street closed
Expensive expertise, I can't fuck with cheap hoes
Lil' brodie robbin' shit, he slicker than some body lotion
Pourin' magic, it ain't Polly juice, lil' ho, it's Wocky potion (Ahh)
Everybody 'round me froze, shit, I'm feelin' like one of them hockey coaches
You'd think I'm Barry Trotz with all this ice around
Swingin' for the fence, Barry Bonds, ain't no strikin' out
Whole entire gang some hammerheads, y'all just some pike and stout
Bet the 27 turn him to an angel, Michael Trout
Actin' like he be out here, but he just stay inside the house
You would think I gave the bitch a filling, I'm inside her mouth
Caught your mans while it was dark, now he inside the stout
Why the fuck they call this bitch a driveway? I'm flyin' out
I done turned the Ram into a 767
Thumbed a dub in hyperspeed, I did it less than sixty seconds
Gotta leave out with two weapons, got an extra blickie fetish
They think that I'm usin' cheat codes, got 'em checkin' Jimmy settings
Pockets full of blue faces, you would think my jeans fainted
Tryna be a billionaire, your lame ass'd rather be famous
Rather get a follower than dollar, huh?
(You need to go reevaluate life, you must be havin' a brain fart)