Don Frye

(альбом: Blue Gene's - 2023)

Dude, you'll never guess what I just found out bruh
What you find out?

Ayy, guess what I just found out, nobody sleeping on me
People quiet 'cause I'm clicking buttons like a dictator, North Korea
Ballistic flow, bigger than the ocean, yo
Can't even use Ukraine to talk to hoes
To bolt the flows, to uphold the opponents
Hocus Pocus pony show means less corny bro
Shit, y'all ain't got no flows
I feel like smacking an Island Boy like an app pocket got on your phone
Two crab apple looking crackers found a Goodwill microphone
Got a Straight Talk card to go viral mumbling in hot tubs, gay
On the interwebs no punnanny at your place
And if they are they fake like you with plastic masks on their face
I hope a hurricane come back and lift y'all's tiny ass away
From where you came so your coral reef face don't take up iTunes space, ayy
Ain't no artist worth dissing anymore
Half these motherfuckers make money from being off beat and horribore
We back and forth hashtagging like high school girls
Lyrics looking skinny, look he's got bulimia bars
These celebrities got me not even believing in stars
Their stories sounded like they damaged but I'm seeing no scars
Big comical pussies, I'ma call 'em Calvin and Hobbs
No radio flyer 'cause I'm flyer than radios y'all
I ain't in the same bracket as no copy and paste
Too many tools on the track must be signed by Harbor Freight
And I got the fuel of eight trains, ate so many rappers I should go chains
And I'm the cannibal to the game like critical thinking with they brains
Hip-Hop DNA is all in my veins, bloodhound sniffing all 808's
Hungry give me all of y'all's plates, tattoo the art of rap on my face
In the two-tone, too lit, got two phones
So many genres in my vocals I think my skin got two tones
My brain a nuke zone, if you thrive then leave me 'lone
Diss me then you'll have to pack and rap to find a new home
A hurricane spitter no ceilin's like the roof gone
Industry fucked up watch 'em make it rain with coupons
Man I go so hard I have haters chick an octave off
Keep it popping car exhaust, colder parking lot is frost
No DM when I'm sliding 'cause the ones in there sliding off
Dope sight, vision got dumb sight, Don Frye his jaw
Like night-night when you're standing in the octagon
A lot of pussies in the game I've rapped battled two octomoms
Fuck a track won't you come get smacked by the autobahn
I'll drown 'em in their own flow but it seems the faucet's always off

Up-mother-fuckin'-church
Brrtt
Woo, woo