zachary hill - schizo (shortened) lyrics
[hook]
i’m a schizo, fat like lizzo
my lyrics’ll make you go, “what the frick yo!”
i’m just a kid, yo
there is hope
layin’ on my pillow in home
didn’t have to go this low
but i did though
you still owe me money
like mr. krabs but this is no kid show
i’ma have to spit slow
[verse 1]
’cause i’m goin’ way too fast
for you motherf+ckers at home with google chrome
i be stalkin’ people on the f+ckin’ internet
yo girl asked, “is it in it yet?”
she left you, now she’s l!ckin’ on my d+ck
it’s because you have no intellect
yo girl said, “ayo, your bars are so sick”
i’m eatin’ her out but it isn’t even dinner yet
muslim with a bomb on his chеst
ariana grande concert
now they’rе all hurt
y’all been playin’ the game too long
so now is my turn
put an airpod in the ear, chug a beer
i can’t hear
all year ’round
you new ’round here?
oh, don’t fear, i don’t like queers
so if one steps up to me they’ll get k!lled
get grilled, you little b+tch
get a couple of stitches, that reminds me
like tristan (b+tch), comin’ back like he playin’ with the mixes
f+ck that song
i got a magnum dong
like tristan when he bought condoms
i got a revolver: .44
i got wh0re opening the door ’cause she want some
[hook]
i’m a schizo, fat like lizzo
my lyrics’ll make you go, “what the frick yo!”
i’m just a kid, yo
there is hope
layin’ on my pillow in home
didn’t have to go this low
but i did though
you still owe me money
like mr. krabs but this is no kid show
i’ma have to spit slow
i’m a schizo, fat like lizzo
my lyrics’ll make you go, “what the frick yo!”
i’m just a kid, yo
there is hope
layin’ on my pillow in home
didn’t have to go this low
but i did though
you still owe me money
like mr. krabs but this is no kid show
i’ma have to spit slow
[verse 2]
’cause i’m goin’ way too fast
for you motherf+ckers at home chillin’ up on yo couch
i don’t give a d+mn about the sh+t that you’re spittin’ outta your mouth
all i care is about makin’ them racks and makin’ them stack
get a few plaques, make sure the frame’s all cracked
if you look out your window at night
you won’t even see me ’cause i’m wearin’ all black
i’m a balla (how do i know that, for sure?)
’cause i got the chevrolet impala
twenty+inch blade rims
makin’ a diss on charlie ’cause i hate him
you seem mistaken
i wanna talk to this b+tch but she’s taken
i roasted your mom in a battle
so i guess that means that i’m cookin’ bacon
let’s meet up at around 8:10
i like my drink stirred, b+tch, not shaken
i got a victim and she’s asian
throw her in a river, but first i’m takin’
some body parts, but enough of that
i don’t want anybody to discover that
i got ted bundy’s murders, but double that
i’m the king of rap, where’s my medal at?
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