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james howard - do what it do lyrics

[verse 1:]
yo i’m runnin’ for stardom, restarting my prime
i’m comin’ in harder, with the heart of a lion
and a modern design, i’m buyin’ trends to find some friends
if i offend you, fiddle with my d-ck like a violin
i’m a leviathan to suburban crackers
i only work with trappers who smack these twerkin’ flappers
there’s certain rappers that need a smackdown
for droppin’ their sh-tty freestyles with my beats in the background
these students treat you like a king, but you a cl-ss clown
find me in the traphouse with your b-tches -ss out
they call you the greatest, but you can’t write a song
i’ll snap any d-mn neck whether it’s wide or long
don’t care if it’s right or wrong, it’s no -ssumption
make these haters have a major malfunction
celebrity disciples be prideful, claimin’ they wrote the bible
that’s why my rival is mad at me ‘cuz i dissed his idol
it’s like lynne cheney attackin’ slim shady over lyrics
you drop a whole ep, but it causes no hysterics
so you get your friends to grow the -n-lytics, but where’s the critics?
cuz your sh-t doesn’t sound prolific
you think i’m skittish, but you’re too wet, we live in a duplex
f-ckin’ with me is like a game of russian roulette
my mind’s loaded, spun around, (boom) your head exploded
should’ve revolved, now you’re bloated, and dissolved into molten

[verse 2:]
f-ck the grammys, they only give awards to punanis
they gave you best rap alb-m, but didn’t check all the nooks and crannies
they must be poppin’ xanies if they don’t give push the crown
p-ss the kush around, they just want you cuz your tush is round
you can shush for now, i’m bout to ambush the town
you got backlash for a reason, and it’s increasin’ cuz you’re displeasin’
i don’t care if you went platinum
i’ve heard way better alb-ms than that one
you a huge clunk droppin’ some new junk for money
imagine wantin’ your cunny, i swear that sh-t’s funny
probably smellin’ like tunny, a terrible and m-ssive odor
and yet, you gain clout from worldstar and fashion nova
don’t worry, i’m a casanova, it’s just you i don’t like
you got a daughter, but you are your own tyke
i pray you don’t raise her to be a thot like you
or her friends will tell her that she looks a lot like you
how many rappers like me on the spot? quite few
if you think it’s about the money, i am not like you

- james howard lyrics

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