Yeah
I'm f*cking chock full of good ideas
I could make you think, should I care
And everything I say goes so you like, yeah
And when I spit it everybody wonder, who that there
That dude raw with a fresh spit
Straight to the brain like you blasting a meth hit
Impressive the wit, nothing to mess with
Capture attention, release it with press kits
Breaking 'em bad like breadsticks at a funeral
Leave them all confused like I'm drunk at a Q&A
Offending sensibilities when I'm flowing like urinals
I welcome all comparisons to Earl and Dan Dumile
But damn it, bitch, I'm the first of my kind
Salty fish pickled in the dirtiest of brine
Alternating between rapping and producing is difficult
Refer to it as circuit training for the mind
So know this
When I flex on the track it refers to the f*cking body
And the time that I spent putting in work so that I could make rap more than just a f*cking hobby
You were nowhere to be found when I almost offed me
Now you all up on my dick, better get up off it
Not your boy, not your dog, I am not a dachshund
I am god's son, louder than a motherf*cking prayer in a dark room
Used to eat bars at a bar
Then go to the bathroom to do ketamine off of a credit card
Now I spit frees in my car
I could show you how I do it but you gotta buy a ticket to my seminar
I lecture regarding the technical side of a drum fill
After bumping a pressed pill
Was depressed 'til I wrote this
Am I on coke cuz I'm stressed still, nobody knows me
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
Kinda underwhelmed by the majority of rap
Mortified by all the copycats who glorify the trap
Motherf*ckers really unaware there's more to it than that
At a beat store everybody foraging like rats
I don't wanna saturate man, I wanna captivate
Every time I kick a rap I want people to gravitate
Every time I reach another level in my ability to rap
I want everybody to be surprised like, damn it Dave
He went and did it again
Proved the doubters wrong
With a simple flick of the pen
All particulars aside, you have room for improvement
But that flow heavy like a biblical event
Didn't take your meds, did ya
Why you cutting up a different f*cking pill like a ninja
I rap the best when my brain switches to fiction
Ill words sublingual, DMT in a tincture
My boy Mend did it once more for the layfool
Aqueous beats wet like a wave pool
Masterchef teach you to properly taste food
Layer that cake with a kick he don't play dude
Game set match set fire to a trash heap
Might as well, cuz what I'm spitting is gas leak
Turn into a terminator, half-bot half-meat
This shit disturbed man, this shit is ghastly
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
Bones McQueen & On the Mend - Breadsticks Lyrics
Bones McQueen & On the Mend - Breadsticks Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Yeah
I'm f*cking chock full of good ideas
I could make you think, should I care
And everything I say goes so you like, yeah
And when I spit it everybody wonder, who that there
That dude raw with a fresh spit
Straight to the brain like you blasting a meth hit
Impressive the wit, nothing to mess with
Capture attention, release it with press kits
Breaking 'em bad like breadsticks at a funeral
Leave them all confused like I'm drunk at a Q&A
Offending sensibilities when I'm flowing like urinals
I welcome all comparisons to Earl and Dan Dumile
But damn it, bitch, I'm the first of my kind
Salty fish pickled in the dirtiest of brine
Alternating between rapping and producing is difficult
Refer to it as circuit training for the mind
So know this
When I flex on the track it refers to the f*cking body
And the time that I spent putting in work so that I could make rap more than just a f*cking hobby
You were nowhere to be found when I almost offed me
Now you all up on my dick, better get up off it
Not your boy, not your dog, I am not a dachshund
I am god's son, louder than a motherf*cking prayer in a dark room
Used to eat bars at a bar
Then go to the bathroom to do ketamine off of a credit card
Now I spit frees in my car
I could show you how I do it but you gotta buy a ticket to my seminar
I lecture regarding the technical side of a drum fill
After bumping a pressed pill
Was depressed 'til I wrote this
Am I on coke cuz I'm stressed still, nobody knows me
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
Kinda underwhelmed by the majority of rap
Mortified by all the copycats who glorify the trap
Motherf*ckers really unaware there's more to it than that
At a beat store everybody foraging like rats
I don't wanna saturate man, I wanna captivate
Every time I kick a rap I want people to gravitate
Every time I reach another level in my ability to rap
I want everybody to be surprised like, damn it Dave
He went and did it again
Proved the doubters wrong
With a simple flick of the pen
All particulars aside, you have room for improvement
But that flow heavy like a biblical event
Didn't take your meds, did ya
Why you cutting up a different f*cking pill like a ninja
I rap the best when my brain switches to fiction
Ill words sublingual, DMT in a tincture
My boy Mend did it once more for the layfool
Aqueous beats wet like a wave pool
Masterchef teach you to properly taste food
Layer that cake with a kick he don't play dude
Game set match set fire to a trash heap
Might as well, cuz what I'm spitting is gas leak
Turn into a terminator, half-bot half-meat
This shit disturbed man, this shit is ghastly
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
I'm f*cking chock full of good ideas
I could make you think, should I care
And everything I say goes so you like, yeah
And when I spit it everybody wonder, who that there
That dude raw with a fresh spit
Straight to the brain like you blasting a meth hit
Impressive the wit, nothing to mess with
Capture attention, release it with press kits
Breaking 'em bad like breadsticks at a funeral
Leave them all confused like I'm drunk at a Q&A
Offending sensibilities when I'm flowing like urinals
I welcome all comparisons to Earl and Dan Dumile
But damn it, bitch, I'm the first of my kind
Salty fish pickled in the dirtiest of brine
Alternating between rapping and producing is difficult
Refer to it as circuit training for the mind
So know this
When I flex on the track it refers to the f*cking body
And the time that I spent putting in work so that I could make rap more than just a f*cking hobby
You were nowhere to be found when I almost offed me
Now you all up on my dick, better get up off it
Not your boy, not your dog, I am not a dachshund
I am god's son, louder than a motherf*cking prayer in a dark room
Used to eat bars at a bar
Then go to the bathroom to do ketamine off of a credit card
Now I spit frees in my car
I could show you how I do it but you gotta buy a ticket to my seminar
I lecture regarding the technical side of a drum fill
After bumping a pressed pill
Was depressed 'til I wrote this
Am I on coke cuz I'm stressed still, nobody knows me
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
Kinda underwhelmed by the majority of rap
Mortified by all the copycats who glorify the trap
Motherf*ckers really unaware there's more to it than that
At a beat store everybody foraging like rats
I don't wanna saturate man, I wanna captivate
Every time I kick a rap I want people to gravitate
Every time I reach another level in my ability to rap
I want everybody to be surprised like, damn it Dave
He went and did it again
Proved the doubters wrong
With a simple flick of the pen
All particulars aside, you have room for improvement
But that flow heavy like a biblical event
Didn't take your meds, did ya
Why you cutting up a different f*cking pill like a ninja
I rap the best when my brain switches to fiction
Ill words sublingual, DMT in a tincture
My boy Mend did it once more for the layfool
Aqueous beats wet like a wave pool
Masterchef teach you to properly taste food
Layer that cake with a kick he don't play dude
Game set match set fire to a trash heap
Might as well, cuz what I'm spitting is gas leak
Turn into a terminator, half-bot half-meat
This shit disturbed man, this shit is ghastly
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
On my momma I'mma rhyme until my feet are under me
Tapping my mind like a honeybee
On the Mend cooking up beats
Set the oven heat
Roast up the drum machine
Serve it with something sweet
Writer: Sung Keon Lee
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid