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teo rhode - beezus vi lyrics

[produced by teo rhode]

[brad]
this is a terrible idea

[verse 1: teo rhode]
6th rap, 6th place, tell me that they miss drake
mixtapes: fire, i burn all of my mistakes
lift weights, in shape, not magic, spin plates
i’ve got 32 girls waiting, all of them wish they
get to roc-a-fella, my wallet’s mozzarella
johnson gets me lotta friends, m. geller
this verse is like magic, call me penn & teller
they bump it so hard, h. keller

i’m the best, like a seller down at bookends
i’m sharp kinda like where the hook ends
where the best days at: dog, you took them
i’ll sprinkle in the salt, i’m a cook then
at a restaurant, i’m the best savant
which senator will get my vote? well, i guess vermont
like a debutante, get accustomed to the share fee
can’t p-ss customs in these shoes, i’m in my bare feet
tracking you down is like hunting for some rare meat
i need my dude, not his bas-m-nt; but do you have a spare suite?
but this is gonna tear me
in half, maybe into quadrants, dog, but i skipped the cl-ss
and man;
winter break went by pretty fast
i’m new to the game, but this verse sure ain’t my last
i’m getting big like sean and i hope it isn’t too late
i’m rushing like a frat so i might trip on my shoe lace
i try to throw it back to when i was playing runescape
yo brad, i’m a nomad: expert with the suitcase

i’m tied up like a bouquet
i’m rising up like the sun does on a new day
i tried to find a crew like ours but there isn’t many bruh
so now i’m talking to myself like i got schizophrenia
i’m tryna throw it back to when we were young like angelica
they tell you “chase your dreams”, then say you won’t make a penny, huh?

but your boys will be behind you
if you’re a treasure buried on mars we’ll still find you
so
i hope you drop a line soon
i know you’re busy, trust me when i say i’m on my grind too

i’m rapping from my mind to
my mouth; men are dogs, i spit it out
it’s a cold winter, dog, are we going south?
i hang more with paul and ryan; speaker of the house

i don’t mean to be cr-ss, just writing, conde nast
you’re so high you see hawks, should have ran it but you p-ssed
when’s the last time i saw you, think i lost my contacts
you even come upstate, let’s hike the adirondacks
freestylin’, i’m violent, i could’ve signed the contracts
even though i rap once a year, i’m still on track

[verse 2]
but i’m locked in a vault and my bars are tight
this verse is preserved, like a unesco site
my words are absurd, i’ll hit you up when you’re in ithaca
we’ll never have the bones beef, he wouldn’t even sit with ya

eleven in the morning, on mondays and through fridays
so many haus parties, called your bas-m-nt my place
it’s been a few months since you’ve even seen my face
might not see you ‘til i’m 90: i’ll be sideways

[verse 3]
but i guess we’re growing older
every morning with the folgers
soon we’ll do the 9-5’ marching like we’re soldiers
but for now you’re only twenty
f-ck a watch, man we’ve got plenty
the lights of manhattan couldn’t even dent me
it’s looking bright between us, as well as for your future
can of worms was opened but we’ll close it like a suture

i lost track, and the fact is i got distracted by my word plays
final lap, eradicate it; cracking through in first place
they’re clapping like fanatics, but for me it’s automatic
i’m erratically arriving at my point: happy birthday!!!

[outro]
[brad: laugh]

- teo rhode lyrics

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