joaquín villegas - extraveganza lyrics
[verse 1]
vocab never made me sweat, cure you like a percocet
always had a wisdom tooth, just added music over it
for some it takes time for them to grow
for some it is never bestowed
in this bout, no doubt, i’m undisputed
had your chance for the entourage but you blew it
like miles, like mobley, and just like my ex
perplex with hex, flexed the latex, vex for checks
s-x rex complex, no rejects
subjects on deck waiting to hear “next”
lemmings getting licked before they’re bluffed by the chick
legs br–sts and thighs will fry you along with your face
but i’m getting ahead of myself
fray the ends, they take care of themselves
running unopposed, you don’t need no ballot
rhymes rich like the 1%, milking all this talent
always speaking real sh-t that’s the diagnosis
all your rhymes smell like sh-t, that’s halitosis
ration dictation, take me in doses
hear my recitations, leave you with proptosis
[verse 2]
the devil’s recalcitrant advocate is at it again
ticked off like big ben, ticking off with a big pen
dogmatic as clifford with a pretty mean tick
ruffian like capone, don’t tell me to sit
got a lotta moxie, bada bing
sold another fan to joaquin, cha cha ching
stick it to them like epoxy, that’s orthodoxy
flashy but i don’t wear bling bling
they ask me “what’s the master plan”?
i say “make the lyrics crumble like a mazapan”
it’s the joaquin extravaganza!
wishing for my presence calling me “santa”!
no moniker, got nothing to hide
bestowed on my birthday, i wear it with pride
life’s been harder than it is to spell my name
naysayers just been using the wrong frame
a mind is a terrible thing to waste, and i
don’t mean losing it hearing me orate, i mean
brainless asinine senseless waste of minds
miraging motives til it aligns with their outline
[verse 3]
people writing forged verisimilitude
but end up sounding like the plato of platitudes
litter it, with illiterate, ignorant gibberish
putting our attention in debt hoping it gathers interest
m-ssive vapid rapid racket at the m-sses
running rampant, congesting, adding to the traffic
treating us like pamplona but we don’t want your bullsh-t
some people just shouldn’t be at the c-ckpit
mayday, mayday, another cliché, cliché
get some personality, parfait parfait
dum and dee pat each other on the back, and
dum dee dum to the hive and back
seeing your own appeal through beer goggles
treating dead horses like plastic bottles
someone take off the equestrians
and walk their own path like pedestrians
talking yourself up like a wingman is sad
or only getting attention by being scantily clad
superficial social status is mundane
cause saying “look at me” just spells lame
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