detroit 187

, the way these bitches on my cock, you'd swear was 1985 and teen wolf just dropped, and my name was michael j fox, but no bitch my name is danny brown i got some weed up in my sock, so bitch get high with ya nigga, the sack i got looking some dead caterpillars, but it smell like a skunk that's oh so defensive, these bitches suck my dick like was moral incentive, off the chain like broke nunchucks, where little niggas come thru and shoot you over new chucks, a little dark like wet nubuck, decribes my state of mind is inside the tomb of king tut, murder all the time all we see, detroit 187 on you niggas tv, i can first degree this beat and walk with no charges, fuck a female mc and a pop artist, ohh baby i like it raw, and my dick so big left stretch marks on her jaw, i'm so institutionalized, i wake up 6 am because i think it's chow time, i'm a borderline porcupine, a step from drinking turpentine, just to wash down a plate of these wack rappers rhymes, i got a mind in the cosmos, and if these niggas cold then i guess i'm osmosis, that be blowing on some potent, that them white boys be growing, while you niggas smoking smelling like some tanning lotion, my concoctions could make world ending potions, these other rap niggas got lines i got encroachments, i got endorsements so muthafucka a cosign, punch punchlines i'll punch rappers til your broke spine, remember back in 09, i told em it was showtime, now they pull they cam phones out when i go for mine, lights camera action, hybrid be snapping, cause the days of no tissue had to whip with wet napkins, smear up the classifieds know it sound trife, but to be honest a metaphor my life, buzzin off the bar bitch you with's an amphetamine, chase it with a 40 oz of ready clean, i swear i never ever smoke the better weed, yo bitch said i'm the swaggiest nigga she ever seen, run up in yo crib, two k's, one mag, yo girl get snatched like cool j in i'm bad, cost to live, you ain't made enough, guarantee bullet holes with a laser touch, european garments drape my body if i ain't hipstered up, if she smile with eye contact then the bitch will fuck, homie gone make me send them killers after him, them niggas swing swords like word fence champions, you was poppin' pills and drinking liquor, now you thinkin you a gangsta killer, i leave you stankin' nigga, laid down, face down like you taking a plankin picture, but i can keep the shots in the weapon, put the bat to back of your leg, grab your chin and the back of your head, and twist them shits in opposite directions