lil dicky - the hot seat freestyle lyrics
[intro lil d-cky & dj greg nitty]
oh
(greg nitty!)
this is the first time i ever rapped on the radio, i just want you to know that
(okay, let’s go)
just know it
(l-let’s go in)
[verse 1]
i don’t know the definition, f-ck is average?
i’ve been sitting, watching waiters
so impatient like it’s baggage claim
i’m ’bout to be the greatest, naked pictures in my chat
these other rappers f-cking lazy, word to banging in a hammock
y’all ain’t even hanging
y’all ain’t in the running boy
i’m f-cking up the track, like the youngin’ in the runnin’
y’all are lighter with the fire, i won a match
he be like “naw i’m bout it bro”, how you get at that?
these b-tches tryna rap, they don’t get they time rappin’
i’m coming
like i’m f-cking, they underwood and to be frank i ain’t frontin’
word to kevin sp-cey
on another level debatably crazier
the sh-t they play beside the p-rn that you playin’
at a matinee eatin’ dippin’ dots, getting checks
f-ck i care that my twitter not… i care a little bit
algorithm isn’t doin’ it’s job, -ssumin’ it’s flawed
they probably not believin’ the hobbes
the nice boy been ballin’, white boy been a dank king, scot pollard
gotta tell my mom “stop calling”, but dog
confused about my destiny
making me repeat myself like i was judging spelling bees but
i’m just tryna smoke weed, grab a quesarito
got azul by a spanish chick, muy bonito
or bonita, that’s my vita
keep the rapping type both ways, dexterous, where my rita?
and when it’s y’all it’s a nice sound
when it’s me it be like “everybody pipe down”
y’all the background, play your part ho
chex mix, grubbin’ up at wells fargo
had to make a new account, did ’em with the checks mix
y’all are tryna fit in, i’m the one who playin’ tetris
this is the beginning of my day, it’s breakfast
y’all the minibars, y’all got mini bars
walk up in this b-tch like i was born bread
going deeper with this spitting, like some p-rn head
picture every rapper laying on the floor dead
while i’m in a chair, cross legged, eating cornbread
i just f-cked a black chick
yeah i’m proud, if that’s racist suck a black d-ck
i’m the one going straight to the top
don’t mistake it, it’s not that flagrant when you blatantly flop
i stay down, like my date gown in this b-tch
i’m bout to hit the playground, straight clown all these kids
watching ladybugs with your lady, got it made like that
cleaning house like a maid might rap
don’t play with you lame type cats
same sh-t for days, motherf-cker, if you cold i got flames
y’all the ice caps
i bet money y’all don’t even know about the ice caps
i don’t know that much either tho, ’bout the ice caps
[intermission]
[intro lil d-cky & dj greg nitty]
uh, ooh
l…d
yuh, ey
(this is part 2. yo talk to ’em man)
uh, sure
[verse 2]
we can start with the rap
flowing like malls, like “ah there’s a gap”
go in my call logs, dogs wanna chat
big dogs
missed calls
lot of motherf-ckers in the league know l
and i just had brunch with embiid and noel
and i just got f-cked and was sucked by a dumb sl-t
usually i like ’em ivy league, oh well
summer camp, i’ve been going h.a.m
young man with that choppa’
that’s rifelry, i like movies, i’m going h.a.m. for that oscar
i’m way far on their radar, like they know i’m comin’, that’s doppler
they borin’ to me, that’s opera, i’m scorin’ beauties, that’s soccer
me and jonah hill smoked
then we talkin’ sh-t ’bout how the rest of y’all blow
then we take a dip up in his pool, pretty cool
not the pool, sh-t is hot
just a view from the spot, sh-t is hot
bunch of blonde b-tches laughing all night
me and busta rhymes meet in venice for a bite
talking sh-t about a comedy scene, the sh-t is so light he tell me
can’t disagree, get it right he tell me, i mean
i thought by now he can see that i’m witty
down in l.a. i been running the city
ask anybody in music or film who got next in this b-tch
and they all sayin’ “d-cky”
i just do it like it’s nothin’ to it
life getting pretty sweet like i fondue it
i’m k!lling b-tches in my lane on some t. stewart
and i’ve been scoring prevent, yeah the dime blew it
i’m the man, bro
i don’t really care what the f-ck you think
and my steak look rare, but i grub that pink
and the grundle stink
and i b-mp nsync
don’t suck d-ck, but i blow that good
don’t want sh-t, but a ho that would
lemme hold that, ben and fold that
get a kodak, cowboy, jerry jones that, lemme own that
f-ck that girl
i got hair, never cut them curls
and it’s truth or dare, with a cute au pair
get a room to share, hit a boom, pat burrell
spit that t-rd, that’s that sh-t
yo girl up on my d-ck
i’m ’bout to sperm up on them hips
don’t want to murder us a kid
oh sh-t, what you say?
don’t you do this everyday?
don’t you usually go with double meat when you eat chipotle?
don’t your crew lack someone black, but you want one to hang?
no slave
i heard your boo got so much back
she bangin’ that notre dame clock
i’m faded tho
f-cking b-tches you’d label undatable
missing birthdays, ay belated, bruh
naked out in san fran on that roof top
tan cans, no tube top
i’m the motherf-cking man, god d-mn
and these motherf-cking b-tches full of sh-t like zoo mops
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