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copywrite - cremation lyrics

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[intro]
o-dot
man bites dog
is mom coming to the dorm, asher? (get ’em)
have her bring me somethin’
have her come bring, bring me somethin’ in something s-xy

ah man, you got me (c-write!)
you got my back against the wall, bro, i’m threatened
what am i gonna do, surock on the beat
uh-oh

[verse 1]
somebody’s talking in subliminal sh-t, with minimal wit
when will he get off eminem’s d-ck? give him his kid
i saw him on youtube in a room, full of dudes, barefoot
no women, it’s feminine sh-t
now who’s a never been, i’m better than you’ve ever been, b-tch
if one thing’s evident, it’s what i spit i never been, b-tch
but you’re too p-ssy to say my name, you would be, play footsie with scooter
begging kid cudi to do a hook, stop the bumming for music
look, f-ck a set up, i sit back
didn’t want to listen to your sh-t to diss back
i mean, we lose to this elf, i lose to my self
how could he have me cornered when i got the room to my self?
we all know that, but you let scooter put a battery in your hollow back like you work for a volvo plant
so either a) keep away, take over a week to pray
cause beef this way will leave your face super ugly when the ether spray
meet the greeter at the pearly gate
verbally put you in the he-rs- at 4:38am, takin’ you to an early grave
your fam will hurl for days, cause we ripped em’s voice from your throat
and gave you auto-tune, put you in a world of pain
bit lot harder kid, i’ve been spittin’ sh-t not thought of yet
you just got your hip-hop starter kit
retire with the spit sh-t, cause if em hadn’t been tired for a quick bit
you’d still be van wilder’s -ssistant
man, some swear they made it and they barely famous
better curb your enthusiasm ‘fore you play yourself like larry david
here lies asher, who’s features/label barely paid it
and already their making funeral and wake arrangements

[hook]
rest in pieces, who’s flesh and peaced it
it’s best to please us, or just be decent
so rest in piece, kid, and rest with jesus
rest in piece, kid

[verse 2]
missed your slight chance to blow for the white rapper show
figured f-ck it, i’ll just bite mathers’ flow, who has to know?
prob is your soul’s that of a white casper ghost
figured f-ck it again and close pinned like half his nose
quincident his voice is like a twin or is he biting slim?
hmm, i’m running with the latter like a fireman
maybe i shouldn’t be battling woody allen
but maybe if he stopped talking like this all day there could be talent
what? cat got your tongue? i see this p-ssy frownin’
your features would be clownin’ if you weren’t throwin’ them thousands
drama co-signed but it’s not cause how hot he rhymes
it’s cause he sees possible dollar signs from the college kind
the whole globe can look, life is like a open book
i have you on my blog, daily, stressed smoking kush
caps on, irrational pantin’, while i blog on hiphopdx
all caps off like the national anthem
this isn’t even back and forth, this is i threw it at you once
and your catch was off, f-ck a asher roth
spat ether on his -ss, too p-ssy to set it off
like my t–th were on the gas, plus your queefin’ on the pad
leakin’, bleedin’ to your dad for em’s tape while you menstruate
bleedin’ on the rag take this beating like a man
now get defeated like a stan, i’m chris brown in a wife beater to rihanna throwin’ keys to his lamborghini when he’s mad
never even went to parties, he’s deceiving all his fans
if he did, he sat in the corner, sippin’ seagrams like a f-g
see they thinking i’m really mad
but the reasons i’m even speakin’ on this f-g
is for twenty minutes, his free was in the trash
ask stevie if he’s mad for signing a mormon
lookin’ like he survived an abortion
here he lies in his coffin for toe taggin’ himself
asher put his own nail in the coffin like he was gagging himself



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