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the gr8 - evil delight lyrics

[verse 1: the gr8]
if your girl from pittsburgh, i’m guaranteed to steal-her
check my wallet like the actor, ben still-here
see, that’s a habit that of broke folks
gotta get our hands on a little money, and don’t wanna see it go like that
like a car in drive, i hold go like that
hit her once; won’t text her, call her, or write back
see me, i don’t have a tolerance like that
going through withdrawals, like you takin’ a art cl-ss
surp-ss, no task; compet-tion, i blow past
they couldn’t keep up with me, even with the leash on my -ss
so many jabs, now referring to [?]
you jealous–ss motherf-ckers can’t see with my retina
ipad, my bad; i’m eatin’ apples, where the f-ck the caramel at?
i’m so high cause i’m keepin’ it one-hundred, degrees, not grease
but i got a shot call on travolta
hit the beat with a convo, someone holla that ultra
flier than a vulture, more beats than voltron
the realest in the game, like [?] with butler
straight serve it like a butler, gettin’ money from you customers
all i see is president faces, like mount rushmore
and they ask what’s the rush for?
so i could be like chan and tucker
more punchlines on this track than a scene in rush hour
puff sour; devour, chicken friend in flour
watchin’ some austin powers, thinkin’ about how to get my mojo back
a fat b-st-rd, tryin’ to lose that
cool cat, like a feline up in the arctic
snow leopard, mackin’ to get the o-s, minus the e-x
that’s the abbreviation for oral s-x in a text
and that was thought of by my cerebral cortex; vortex
how i’m up in the mall, maulin’ on a pepperoni pizza in the food court
too short, that’s what they said my career would be
p-i-m-p, any h-o-e; no j-o-k-e
like i’m kushed out with a lot of cologne on, do you smell me?
don’t tell me you really don’t, because i know that i smell, similar to a skunk
i got the p-funk; that’s what they used to call it back in my high school
yeah, the princ-p-l done always kicked my out of it
it’s legit, no sick, constipated, r-rated
beyond the most hated; educated
but still, a lot can’t relate with, the same stuff that i be on
you just a p on with a d, that’s a p-wn in a chess game
no testing; like this is not the week for the final
and everything that i said, it is final
and i’m spinal, like that dude from k!ller instinct
got a k!ller instinct, ’cause i, murk every track that i see and i hear
never give in your proof on the street, f-ck ya’ll credit card, i’d rather get my debit card
and my so-called friends would never listen to my track
cause i ain’t talkin’ ’bout poppin’ guns
and how i’m up in the hood, slangin’ the crack, cookin’ the crack
man, homeboy, stop that
all the sh-t that i spit, is none of that
the gr8 back..

- the gr8 lyrics

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