Pop

Death Grips

Pop-pop-pop-pop

Your crisis is my alarm
Why I'm like "shh, stay calm"
You fight shit I ride upon
My knife been drawn
Three-six-fiv light of dawn
Lit up rock you live under
Ass-backwards muthafucka features like hot butter
Like your brothers, your father and your sisters, your mother
Trend-setter maximum third planet from the sun orbit my lungs
Bulldozin' cul-de-sacs ground under over every act
Cut no slack, no slack

Pop-pop-pop-pop

No chance to throw I rush the mound
Rage stormin' off the chains remind me of rape house slave cock rings
You're played out like talking
Your cadence is sloppy
Can't break me I got me
You're grave stink I'm lofty
You're lady like lolli
Pop tramp on that jigaboo goddamn I'm so sick of you
I despise that shit what I would never align me with
Feel free to mime me but don't be saltine when I call you a biter bitch



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