upchurch - don frye lyrics
[intro]
dude, you’ll never guess what i just found out bruh
what you find out?
[verse]
ayy, guess what i just found out, n0body sleepin’ on me
people quiet ’cause i’m cl!ckin’ b+ttons like a dictator, north korea
ballistic flow, bigger than the ocean, yo
can’t even use ukraine to tote them hoes
to bolt the flows, to uphold the opponents
hocus pocus pony show means less corny bro
sh+t, y’all ain’t got no flows
i feel like smackin’ an island boy like an app pocket got on your phone
two crab apple lookin’ crackers found a goodwill microphone
got a straight talk card to go viral mumblin’ in hot tubs, g+y
on the interwebs no punnanny at your place
and if they are they fake like you with plastic masks on their face
i hope a hurricane come back and lift y’all’s tiny ass away
from where you came so your coral reef face don’t take up itunes sp+ce, ayy
ain’t no artist worth dissin’ anymore
half these motherf+ckers make money from bein’ off beat and horribore
we back and forth hashtaggin’ like high school girls
lyrics lookin’ skinny, look he’s got bulimia bars
these celebrities got me not even believin’ in stars
their stories sounded like they damaged but i’m seein’ no scars
big comical p+ssies, i’ma call ’em calvin and hobbs
no radio flyer ’cause i’m flyer than radios y’all
i ain’t in the same bracket as no copy and paste
too many tools on the track must be signed by harbor freight
and i got the fuel of eight trains, ate so many rappers i sh+t gold chains
and i’m the cannibal to the game like critical thinkin’ with they brains
hip+hop dna is all in my veins, bloodhound sniffin’ all 808’s
hungry give me all of y’all’s plates, tattoo the art of rap on my face
in the two+tone, too lit, got two phones
so many genres in my vocals i think my skin got two tones
my brain a nuke zone, if you thrive then leave me ‘lone
diss me then you’ll have to pack and rap to find a new home
a hurricane spitter no ceilin’s like the roof gone
industry f+cked up watch ’em make it rain with coupons
man i go so hard i have haters chick an octave off
keep it poppin’ car exhaust, colder parkin’ lot is frost
no dm when i’m slidin’ ’cause the ones in there slidin’ off
dope sight, vision got dumb sight, don frye his jaw
like night+night when you’re standin’ in the octagon
a lot of p+ssies in the game i’ve rapped battled two octomoms
f+ck a track won’t you come get smacked by the autobahn
i’ll drown ’em in their own flow but it seems the faucet’s always off
[outro]
up+mother+f+ckin’+church
brrtt
woo, woo
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