Macaulay Culkin

Jesus Christ, C-Lance
I told you man, you can't let me out the loony bin like this
I feel like fucking murdering something
(C-Lance) let's go

I'll rip your heart out just by reaching down your throat
Just so I can watch you try your best to breathe without a pulse
Yet you see that I'm the GOAT, y'all ain't even coming close
Macaulay Culkin in the loony bin, don't leave me home alone
I'm just seated on my throne and these fucking rappers are peasants
I'm coming after they heads with a rusty dagger, come get it
If someone asks for a medic, I'll fucking stab 'em to death
Suffering succotash I'm Sylvester I'm running after you pheasants
Shout out to C-Lance, we're like Eminem and Dre
And all these rappers are just roaches, someone better get the Raid
I'm the shit, like some excrement that's left for several days
That's why the SWAT team's waiting when I exit off the stage
A combination of lyricism and skill
So when you hear [?] a car and then steer the whip off a hill
Ain't it clear by now? I could give zero shits with no chill, I'm fucking nuts
Like [?] how I feel, bitch

Who the fuck let me outta the psych ward?
Who the fuck let me out the loony bin?
I turn into a monster soon as the mic on
Know I'm fucking crazy, let me do my thing
Better lock your doors and close your windows
'Cause big Merk's on the loose again
He's running round waving a loaded pistol
And he's drunk off a juice and gin

Breaking out the loony bin, Webby's on the loose (yeah)
Coming from the underground, let 'em see the roots
Got a gun under my pillow like a fucking baby tooth
Let a robber inside just so I can legally shoot
Writing while intoxicated like that letter Stan wrote
So any time they ask me if I give a damn, no
Making fun of trans folks
As if it's not the year 2021 where nobody can take a damn joke (relax)
Playing Russian roulette with a sawed-off
C-Lance on the beat so I had to bring the raw thoughts
Dropping so much shit you think we chilling at the dog park
Stepping to me, you're like an ant to an aardvark
Arthur with his fist balled up, ready to swing
Sock 'em in the lip just to make 'em kiss the ring
Throw another couple punches just to really make it sting
Y'all ain't ready for the fire that I bring, Webby

Who the fuck let me outta the psych ward?
Who the fuck let me out the loony bin?
I turn into a monster soon as the mic on
Know I'm fucking crazy, let me do my thing
Better lock your doors and close your windows
'Cause big Webby's on the loose again
He's running round waving a loaded pistol
And he's drunk off a juice and gin