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upchurch - hi-deas 5 lyrics

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[intro]
yeah, hi-deas 5, you are prolly sick of me by now
for real though, you are prolly sick of me

woah, woah, woah
church, church, church, church

[verse]
six 50 gallon drums, fill them mugs up at the co-op
make three of ’em scratch, feed the other three all corn
i hold it down like yellow straps, automatic in my zone
i rhec sh-t, but i won’t break not body parts at autozone
but you gonna need an arm and leg, like you escaped the zodiac
and crawled your half-ss -ss back home and made it to your funky steps
then got ran over by a taxi cab that don’t exist
’cause hipster kids with hipster friends do hipster sh-t
“i was vloggin’ on my uber shift”
then totally like hit this kid, then when i grabbed my rear-view mirror
it looked like master splinter was pullin’ it into the f-ckin’ sewer system
river, river, river rat, river rat-saurus-rex
i’m like who the f-ck is that? i’m just kiddin’ i don’t look back
school y’all hoes don’t touch my backpack, no textbook, i make my own maps
i’m christopher columbu-church, i set sail and set eyes on icecaps
new horizon’s where my minds at, my dna has had wire taps
took shrooms then murder cow then ended up with a jug of milk in a motherf-ckin’ sp-ce ship
i-i-i what the f-ck? where’s the hershey’s syrup boy?
i know i’m transparently white, but i still like a little bit of chocolate son
b-tch i’m vanilla ice, ice babyface nelson
cornbread fed ain’t a f-ckin’ thing you can tell me
moonwalkin’ in the mesosphere, beats headphones taped to my ears
blarin’ a 2000’s beat, then y2k my engineer
bl-ble-bl-ble-bl-ble over the system when i function
mumble rappers brain cells are in the negative with the dumbos
they like yah, yah, yah, roll that sh-t, i flip the sh-t, i did the drill
you sound like you dipped your face in elmer’s glue kindergarten kid
you can follow me if you want your lyrics chiseled in hieroglyphics
i’m flyer than a hang glider on a cliff with infinite wind b-tches
and i’ll put you on crutches from gettin’ trucks sticked in a mud pit
make your nuts seem more bald than michael phelps’ f-ckin’ armpits
you can dive down deep to my underground depth
my holy water the darkest petroleum jelly yourself
the polar bear club ain’t even accepted by me
the last time the ice age happened i thought of a rhyme and made the f-ckin’ dinosaurs extinct
no comet!
i don’t gotta be a comet through the universe to vibe
i’m convinced that willie, waylon, and johnny can travel time
go listen to highwaymen, yeah these people think i’m crazy
interviewers leave my house because the ghost be in their faces
but it’s only when i’m talkin’ music, ask matt ’bout the missin’ footage
ask bri ’bout how i can use my mind to cut the lights off homie
if i go missin’ the men in black done picked me up
but they better have a blunt inside that flashy thing son

[outro: men in black & upchurch]
alright, come here, look straight, right here, alright hold still
-neuralyzer sound-
ahh god d-mn motherf-cker, that’s my f-ckin’ eyes
what? uh, you still remember?
of course i f-ckin’ remember d-ck, i’m the one who made that f-ckin’ thing
let me see it, alright you hold still
alright -neuralyzer sound- who are you?
hehe, i’m church, buddy
(church)



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