CHiNK MONeY - ADJUST (BANG YO HeAD)

Hold up, let me speak a little somethin'
And show these tone-deaf clones I ain't frontin
Cause when I spit it, bitches trippin' down to nothin'
She came prepared yo, she even shaved her muffin
Lookie there, that's not the only thing I'm bustin'
Cause when I bust a flow, you know the flow, it can't be fucked with
You're broke and rusted
Your rhymes are dusted And I'ma give the whole rap game an adjustment
You know you cannot hang with us, you need to hang it up
It's dangerous, and killin' a fake MC, it ain't a thing to us
I'm mackin' up a gang of sluts, you back it up, I'll spank it up
I'm packin' up the dankest bud, you wack as fuck, you can't adjust
To the shit that I'm spittin', so just forget it
I'm a winner, and I leave these women's heads spinnin
I do a little bit of sinnin', intendin' to be repentin'
On Sunday then come home to watch The Simpsons
I'm an asshole, with mad flows
This rap goes to wack hoes that lack flows
And that shows in your rhymes, cause you suck
I'm the future of hip-hop, time to adjust
Yeah, you know what time it is
Time to roll up the trees, get high to this
Turn the music up loud, we the livest clique
Sickne$$ motherfucker, lose your mind to this
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, steppin' back on the scene
Never lost my dream, tryin' to stick to the green
You'll be green with envy from my cash flow
Greener than the weed I smoke, watch the grass grow
Wacky tobacco, snackin' on nat-chos
I mean nachos, and pink tacos
You wanna hear hot flows?Chink got those
Who can do rock shows and still drop bows?
Chillin' with the Skunk Crew, yeah, we get it crunk too
Pay me, fuck you, tell me what you gon' do?
Quarter Chinese, so I kick it like kung fu
Listen, when I spit it, it's the shit you will adjust to
I'm so ahead of my time, dude
I could out-rhyme you back in high school
Back in seventh grade
You need to elevate
I'm at the top, about to hop over heaven's gate
You grab the mic when you really should be passin' it
Answer this, you wanna see how sick this bastard gets?
Imagine this, I'll eat a whole pound of laxatives
Shit on every single rap you spit
Then wipe my ass with it
Yeah, you know what time it is
Time to roll up the trees, get high to this
Turn the music up loud, we the livest clique
Sickne$$, motherfucker, lose your mind to this
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out
Yeah, bang your head till your brains fall out

Written by:
Damien Chan

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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