Sticks and Stones

[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!) [Verse 2: Kool A.D.] Beer and whiskey shots (Shots), weirder than 50, Pac Biggie, or Ricky Ross (Rappers), I'm Jiggy, I'm Vicky Vasquez (Vasquiez) Don't love the game, shot clocking above the game (Nope) Ballers and shot callers be calling me Bob Costas (Sports) I'm Immortal Technique: I'm obnoxious Hella people telling me to stop it Probably, they be jealous 'cause we sell it at a profit Kenan and Kel-ing it and it's awesome I'm Nas, man, I'm God's son, nah dunn, I'm on one I'm dumb, I don't got guns, dude But let's battle and see who sons who I'm reading Sun Tzu, translating Don Killuminati into Spanish Wrapping my body in bandages (Huzzah!) [Verse 3: Heems] Drunk driving on a Wednesday (Wednesday) All my friends be rapping (Rapping) They always be writing (Writing) Wake up tomorrow like, "What happened?" (What happened?) The verse done, and it's always aight, tho Ayo, Michael Jackson is Monty Python (What?) All of y'all pricks can suck my dick (Dick!) I'm stupid as shit, but I'm 'bout to be rich (Rich!) I'm at the Pizza Hut, I'm at the Taco Bell The combination made my eyes bleed (See what I did I there?) It's Herman, I'm swerving, the nervous MC I'll rap on the track if my friends let me (Thank you, friends!) You guys aight, but I ain't tryna have an orgy (Nothing personal!) The Jameson, the ginger ale, occasionally, the Georgi (I'm off it!) The Popov, the Dubra, all of that shit (All of it!) Proper and super, they falling back quick (Quick) I got three shirts, and they all look expensive (Two of 'em do!) 2000 Volkswagen, mad old and dented Skateboard P,, Ashanti, foolish (Foolish!) The worst rapper on this track, third coolest (Huzzah!) [Verse 4: Danny Brown] (Exquire, what up, nigga?) Straight shots of Cuervo, blunts to the neck Got a rat bitch that smoke blacks until the plastic melt (Step!) My legacy is shining like a diamond on a tanning bed Climbing on you niggas, put the iron to your head (Blaow!) Instead, you niggas tryin' to get ahead ('Head) Like a stray bullet, you niggas misled (Lead) I'm about my bread; you ain't, you can roll (Roll) Try and stop that, get a bagel-sized hole (Go!) 'Cause it-a been nights, heat the house, use a stove (Ugh) Took a cold bath to walk to school in the snow (Ugh) Now, I take it back (Back), when these niggas was fronting (Fronting) Now, I got something, ain't worried about nothing, nigga Me and my niggas about to take the world over (Take the world over) Me and my niggas about to take the world over (Step!) Rolling out a onion (Step!), blunts Paul Bunyan Onion booty bitch crying, deepthroating something (Huzzah!) [Verse 5: El-P] Straight shots of Sterno, wick stuck in the bottle empty (Three) Blocks to the target; we lit it and lobbed it hard at Sentry (Four) Pigs of the oinking variety guard the market entry (Five) Minutes of flames and then aim the whistle my father lent me (Six o'clock) We meet up and divvy the shells among the young'uns Seven continents in the shit and smoke like it's fucking London Before they ate up the funds, our harmony love was bumping Now, the government issue nines are pointed where your blood is pumping Tend to mop up these muttering zombie talking pieces El'll vent on you harder than Fukushima breezes In the end, when a dozen or so adjourn to reason You'll find the verdict return corrupted in murderous seasons With inverted 31s and other unlucky omens That's why I chug 7&7s 'til I'm fucking homeless And every time you think my fifteen minutes of fame are up I'll spit another sixteen to prove to the world I fucking own it (Yeah) [Verse 6: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire] Damn, it feel good to see people up on it (Ugh) Couple thousand views on YouTube—a nigga still hungry No food in my stomach and my pockets fucked up Plus, my mother still work, so why should I give a fuck? Fuck a blog, fuck a label, fuck a meeting, fuck a A&R Fuck a cosign, motherfucker, fuck it all Still lost as Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye Skullfuck her, smut, nut and try to catch her in the eye Big belly, still take my shirt off like Nelly Rasta Pasta from Footprints, buy liquor out the deli and shit My pops' negligence done made me rebellious Arrested development, the rest is irrelevant Fuck the throne—watch the project bench covered in pigeon shit This for my nigga Los 'til we see him again (Free Los) Stretch a nigga like a regular tee from the outlet Hiding my rhymebook from the Grammaton Clerics Mishka bear, knots obnoxious as Roger Klotz I plot as the clock tick-tocks to make the world suck my cock Validated in every wrong decision I ever did My ex-girlfriend thought I wouldn’t ever be shit Well looky here, bitch—my dick grew six inches since then Will I make it out the projects? I guess it depends Huzzah, bitch!