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[Intro: Drew Diezel]
Yo this is Drew Diezel
Listen up

[Verse 1: Drew Diezel]
Watch me go in first as I murder the verse please
I think you can wait your turn you’re so much worse it hurts me
You have got the wisdom of a nursery
Spit fire so cold I think I need some Burt’s Bees
Yeah I’ve started to burn trees
But have you heard me rapping words
My skill it can’t be mapped on earth
Too many bars so call the second act a third

I’m spitting and ripping the writtens, because I rap from memory
But I can’t recall what’s said to me, I bet it be upsetting
She be telling me she thinks you’re too bum for her
I’ll comfort her and shit you know I’ll cum for her!
Got no jizz on comforters
Cause me and her will be under the sheets
Yeah your girlfriend will turn into a freak, Just for me
While her knees are wide open and her third eye might be soaking
She cannot help but keep moaning, woah
Sorry you get none of that, for me she will be fun and bad
But if you wanna give her slack, to me she will be running back
Sorry it’s too late for that I’ve already got another cat
I’ve got them lined up, damn they’re standing back to back
I don’t mean my writing I’ll admit that I am kinda slow
But I am writing gold, that’s something only Midas knows
I’m sleeping through winter, shit I think it might’ve snowed
I spit so much I load a cup, fire so cold it’s frozen up
All your fans, they know what’s up and
All your raps they so fucked up and
Skill you ain’t got enough

Homie your rapping is floor tier
You should take a long walk off a short pier
So you drown because the end is more near
Just go down and walk along the shore here
You just wasted four
Years of education
I’ve got money you won’t be making
I’ve got fans that you’ll be hating
I’ve got no work all vacations
Recognized across the nation
Rapping in conversation
Yeah my 16s are piss clean my 32s ain’t dirty too
You say I suck at rapping and
I might be whipping a civic but you ride a Jetta
You’re not better heard your letters
My shit is on fire, I am a hella smeller
But even Hellen Keller can tell her fellers that you stink

[Verse 2: Maxxy]
Maxxy’s in the house!

Slow it down
For the fucking clowns
Up in D-Town
Having mad bitties ’round
Keg stand
'Till the fags land

I only fuck tight pussies with a real tan
Chilling with the homies up in here
No bitches here ain’t without a fucking beer
Get drunk jamming to the ill crunk
Girl get it on I’m taking off your damn trunks
We rapping, smoking, feel the beat i’m choking
Franco getting bitties wobble wobble eat them titties
Get drunk, get drunk, let’s get fucked up!
Throw that bitch in the trunk!

[Outro]
[Three knocks]
Get in the trunk bitch!
[Trunk slams]

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