[Intro: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Aight, I'ma do a 40
[*clink*], [*clink*], [*clink*], [*clink*]
Breastmilk, you made my day
You know we had to do a remix, right?
Take that, take that
Hahahaha
Ugh, ugh
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh
[Chorus: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Drunk driving on a Wednesday
With three bitches in the MPV
Half a gallon of Georgi Porgie
And cranberry: that's the P.O.P. (Pillow of passion)
A recipe for terror, we mix them shits together
And then we have an orgy
We live this life forever, we never gonna stop
You with us, lemme hear you scream (Huzzah!)
[Verse 1: Despot]
One vodka soda poured over four-leaf clovers
He be the luckiest fuck this side of the rainbow you know of
He seen the blood and the guts and the gang signs get thrown up
He seen the fight and the fuss for that same pot of gold
But he hold the dice and he roll 'em, and if he lose, it's a hold-up
Plus, got them sticks and them stones that’ll bust them thin brittle bones up
Won’t switch his pitch or his tone up for no one, bitch, he a grown up
The kid is so "So what?", they didn't think he would show up
Slow up, happy to be here
Muster up three cheers: "Hip-hip, who are you? Hear, hear"
Huzzah, sis-boom-bah, cue the fanfare
Go fetch the man of the year a goddamn chair
He's half there, ditched the other half willy-nilly
Buss how he hit the town, cocked back, slapping it silly
Don't beat him while he down off whatever his favorite swill be
I ain't a killer, but don't kill me (Huzzah!)
Aight, I'ma do a 40
[*clink*], [*clink*], [*clink*], [*clink*]
Breastmilk, you made my day
You know we had to do a remix, right?
Take that, take that
Hahahaha
Ugh, ugh
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh
[Chorus: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Drunk driving on a Wednesday
With three bitches in the MPV
Half a gallon of Georgi Porgie
And cranberry: that's the P.O.P. (Pillow of passion)
A recipe for terror, we mix them shits together
And then we have an orgy
We live this life forever, we never gonna stop
You with us, lemme hear you scream (Huzzah!)
[Verse 1: Despot]
One vodka soda poured over four-leaf clovers
He be the luckiest fuck this side of the rainbow you know of
He seen the blood and the guts and the gang signs get thrown up
He seen the fight and the fuss for that same pot of gold
But he hold the dice and he roll 'em, and if he lose, it's a hold-up
Plus, got them sticks and them stones that’ll bust them thin brittle bones up
Won’t switch his pitch or his tone up for no one, bitch, he a grown up
The kid is so "So what?", they didn't think he would show up
Slow up, happy to be here
Muster up three cheers: "Hip-hip, who are you? Hear, hear"
Huzzah, sis-boom-bah, cue the fanfare
Go fetch the man of the year a goddamn chair
He's half there, ditched the other half willy-nilly
Buss how he hit the town, cocked back, slapping it silly
Don't beat him while he down off whatever his favorite swill be
I ain't a killer, but don't kill me (Huzzah!)
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