Lt Headtrip, C Money Burns - Most Improved Lyrics

You can see him with trophy when he's strollin’ through
Held together with scotch tape and Elmer’s glue
With some, “We knew you'd do it but we thought that you would blow it” too
Don’t be rude, now
Most improved
And you believe in him but deep down you know the truth
The king of bullshit sits atop a throne of poop
Hey, who I am to judge? I know we're only human
Well, some of us cyborgs with implants in a bone or two
It’s like getting your hands on full blown scuba
Gear after years of using shitty broken snorkel tubes
Well I guess it all depends on your flow. It's true that
Either option gives a guy a pretty good ocean cruise
And hell, if you can struggle through with
Pokemon bandaids on your aching, weeping open wounds
And still pull that off I guess I'd vote for you, too
Most improved
You're doin' fuckin' great
You're movin' up the ranks
We never knew that you would make it
Used to be the token noob
Most improved
You’re doin' fuckin' great
You’re provin’ us complacent
See we were losin' the faith
It’s a little overdue, but
Most improved
He left the big city and his studio for a dorm room
With two grown dudes and a dope bicoastal view
A hard job, bar rot and some nose abuse
Be discreet bro, they don’t need to know we broke the rules
It’s like going from Pop-Tarts to Toaster Strude
Or off brand pop art to Warhol soup
Like goin’ from a broom stick, a hangar, pantyhose and
Shoe strings to a pop filter, sound foam and a vocal booth
Used to do his dentistry old school
Usin' every day household objects to pull a tooth
Tie a molar to a door and slam it closed for you
But now he's got the Novocain and rusty old broken tools
And I don’t really know what I'm supposed to do
So I'll just stand here a perform a few
Melancholy, funky ass, songs that I wrote for you
He's singin’ now but last week he couldn’t hold a tune
You're doin' fuckin' great
You're movin' up the ranks
We never knew that you would make it
Ugly duck to golden goose, kinda
Most improved
You’re doin' fuckin' great
You’re provin’ us complacent
See we were losin' the faith
Glad that we could coach you through
Most improved
You’re doin' fuckin' awesome
We knew that you would blossom
Actually we assumed that you’d be awful
But we held out some hope for you
Most improved
Hey now you’re doin' much better
In the groove under pressure
You know, you’re screwin’ up less
Whoa was me, whoa was you
Now you’re most improved

You can see him with trophy when he's strollin’ through
Held together with scotch tape and Elmer’s glue
With some, “We knew you'd do it but we thought that you would blow it” too
Don’t be rude, now
Most improved
And you believe in him but deep down you know the truth
The king of bullshit sits atop a throne of poop
Hey, who I am to judge? I know we're only human
Well, some of us cyborgs with implants in a bone or two
It’s like getting your hands on full blown scuba
Gear after years of using shitty broken snorkel tubes
Well I guess it all depends on your flow. It's true that
Either option gives a guy a pretty good ocean cruise
And hell, if you can struggle through with
Pokemon bandaids on your aching, weeping open wounds
And still pull that off I guess I'd vote for you, too
Most improved
You're doin' fuckin' great
You're movin' up the ranks
We never knew that you would make it
Used to be the token noob
Most improved
You’re doin' fuckin' great
You’re provin’ us complacent
See we were losin' the faith
It’s a little overdue, but
Most improved
He left the big city and his studio for a dorm room
With two grown dudes and a dope bicoastal view
A hard job, bar rot and some nose abuse
Be discreet bro, they don’t need to know we broke the rules
It’s like going from Pop-Tarts to Toaster Strude
Or off brand pop art to Warhol soup
Like goin’ from a broom stick, a hangar, pantyhose and
Shoe strings to a pop filter, sound foam and a vocal booth
Used to do his dentistry old school
Usin' every day household objects to pull a tooth
Tie a molar to a door and slam it closed for you
But now he's got the Novocain and rusty old broken tools
And I don’t really know what I'm supposed to do
So I'll just stand here a perform a few
Melancholy, funky ass, songs that I wrote for you
He's singin’ now but last week he couldn’t hold a tune
You're doin' fuckin' great
You're movin' up the ranks
We never knew that you would make it
Ugly duck to golden goose, kinda
Most improved
You’re doin' fuckin' great
You’re provin’ us complacent
See we were losin' the faith
Glad that we could coach you through
Most improved
You’re doin' fuckin' awesome
We knew that you would blossom
Actually we assumed that you’d be awful
But we held out some hope for you
Most improved
Hey now you’re doin' much better
In the groove under pressure
You know, you’re screwin’ up less
Whoa was me, whoa was you
Now you’re most improved