Pt. 3: Next Thing Lyrics

When I was young

A woman named Zulynette Morales put me on to Pun

She changed my life, was a mentor, taught me how to stunt

She coulda dropped me plenty jewels, but I had to run

Felt that within me something horrifying had begun

My whole life I've had what you would call "sensitive skin"

I lost a lot of blood, red from my legs to my chin

Was many long nights scratching and ripping away

Wish I could say that I was free of that bullshit today

I could have been beautiful if it wasn't for those

Times when I just couldn't muster the fucking impulse control

Death realer than a motherfucker

Break the seal on that tec steel that'll double cup ya

Essential phrase: "If you ain't giving me the money fuck ya"

Be in your vicinity flashing, "What the fuck ya up ta?"

Always was a cut-up

Raised with the gun buffs

Was never bitching, this shit was supposed to be no-rough-stuff

Hit your position with a Ford Tundra bumping One Love

S on my undies, and everything you do get Undone

Yeah, pull a fateful thread

I look like Steve Buscemi, I ain't gonna debate you friend

Maybe you wanna try too

I'll stick you with the switch off the cover Granddaddy I.U.

Damn it's a shame, God, you ain't even make it into Da Graveyard

The shine on my shit similar to H bomb

The road rage shit'll have you placed on

Obituary third page of your local pape, dog

Dump your body in the lake

Six weeks later comforting your moms up at your wake, dog

In DC me and Cass blow a tacklebox

I look like Cappadon

She want my eggs like it's caviar

Rapper, card carrying soul controller

Knock your monkey ass outta bed, fuck rolling over

Wish I could do a little more than just act like I know

But you don't know until you find out, that's how it goes

Step on a bug with two tone lavender on my toes

Rubber soul, I played the silph scope, now you're a ghost

The blessed bring blessings with them wherever they been

Don't split 'em from the rest

In my own life, sing from the chest

Hit the open mic event-thing

Pull a black grimoire outta my vest, testing testing… I gotta get the fuck outta this town

Raw fate put the bird right back in my hand

Can't really say I came a long way from going after the band

In all my dreams, I'm always after the plans

The double barrel gonna leave you with hangers for hands