The Classifieds, UnoDeuce - Mysterio Lyrics

I can't take him serious, he rocking Kenneth Cole
And these rocks around my neck expensive minerals
I just pulled your bitch, she thought we'd be in bed alone
So I called that bitch an Uber and I sent her home
Classified shit banging through your stereo
Luchador shit, call up Ray Mysterio
In the pulpit, I ain't ever been before
And my wrist look like a fishbowl, Mysterio
You eating Cheerios while I'm nutting in your honey
House full of snow bunnies, bitches keep me company
Mink coat, too cold, how I'm looking comfy
I just did a bump of blow bumping Brass Monkey
Stomach rumblies, I don't look for beats I soul search
Eat em like I'm hungry, sixteens for dessert
Get your just desserts in the form of back-of-hearse
724, that's the number get you merked
Nigga Denver ain't a city, he's a fucking person
Say that stupid shit again and Imma make it worse
Hire Agent 47, put you on a shirt
Shop for AK-47s while she buy a purse
I can't think of all times that I shoulda died
But y'all niggas never tried enough
I'm odd enough, my future is anomalous
You taking from me, leave yo ass anonymous
In Cold Pursuit, we brought the Entourage with us
Like UnoDeuce and Trip C down to ride with us
The homie Stakes, I think he's on designer drugs
Make no mistake, I'm tryna be the god of nuns
I'm making plates, I'm eating for the five of us
I'm gaining weight, the pounds is just piling up
I'm in UK, the mandem on the rise with us
I fake the play then dunk it like I'm Roddy bruh
I can't take him serious, he rocking Kenneth Cole
And these rocks around my neck expensive minerals
I just pulled your bitch, she thought we'd be in bed alone
So I called that bitch an Uber and I sent her home
Classified shit banging through your stereo
Luchador shit, call up Ray Mysterio
In the pulpit, I ain't ever been before
And my wrist look like a fishbowl, Mysterio
Never been one to get on a track
And tell motherfuckers I'm all in my bag
They play on the D and they padding the stats
It's like they been rushing to get on the sack
And I don't really got a problem with them
Except for the people that say that I'm wack
I slay on the track like Tony Stewart, the homies knew I would settle the match
I got mirages and illusions that I am never revealing
Garages with the moolah stacked all the way to the ceiling
Broads with the hoop earrings tryna catch on a feeling
Facades that's elusive, masked like I'm really a villain
Never wonder whether I settle every vendetta
You leave your chick at the house I tell you to come and get her
She probably walking funny, her panties never been wetter
The next one better be better, she's charity to us Trevor
Yo, Classified shit, you know what it is
Man, this that music to bring a Christian girl to the abortion clinic to, you know what I'm saying
This that fucking
Interracial music, make ya grandfather mad
Man, this shit makes me wanna bring a switchblade to a preschool and just start slashing
This that music to hate-fuck your ex to
Man, this shit makes me wanna go to Build-A-Bear and pull my fucking nuts out
Fuck Kid Ink
Yeah I'm throwing shots at Kid Ink
Fuck Kid Ink, whatcha gonna do about it
This shit makes me wanna buy a pure-bred dog and send em right to the fucking pound
This shit makes me wanna mow my lawn
This shit makes me wanna take the turn-pike instead of avoiding tolls
Yeah I wanna pay the fucking price
Man, this that shit to abandon your son to
This, this that music, Classified shit
Makes me wanna ride my car off a cliff
But not in a suicidal way, in like a fucking hard way
Classified shit
Fuck Kid Ink

I can't take him serious, he rocking Kenneth Cole
And these rocks around my neck expensive minerals
I just pulled your bitch, she thought we'd be in bed alone
So I called that bitch an Uber and I sent her home
Classified shit banging through your stereo
Luchador shit, call up Ray Mysterio
In the pulpit, I ain't ever been before
And my wrist look like a fishbowl, Mysterio
You eating Cheerios while I'm nutting in your honey
House full of snow bunnies, bitches keep me company
Mink coat, too cold, how I'm looking comfy
I just did a bump of blow bumping Brass Monkey
Stomach rumblies, I don't look for beats I soul search
Eat em like I'm hungry, sixteens for dessert
Get your just desserts in the form of back-of-hearse
724, that's the number get you merked
Nigga Denver ain't a city, he's a fucking person
Say that stupid shit again and Imma make it worse
Hire Agent 47, put you on a shirt
Shop for AK-47s while she buy a purse
I can't think of all times that I shoulda died
But y'all niggas never tried enough
I'm odd enough, my future is anomalous
You taking from me, leave yo ass anonymous
In Cold Pursuit, we brought the Entourage with us
Like UnoDeuce and Trip C down to ride with us
The homie Stakes, I think he's on designer drugs
Make no mistake, I'm tryna be the god of nuns
I'm making plates, I'm eating for the five of us
I'm gaining weight, the pounds is just piling up
I'm in UK, the mandem on the rise with us
I fake the play then dunk it like I'm Roddy bruh
I can't take him serious, he rocking Kenneth Cole
And these rocks around my neck expensive minerals
I just pulled your bitch, she thought we'd be in bed alone
So I called that bitch an Uber and I sent her home
Classified shit banging through your stereo
Luchador shit, call up Ray Mysterio
In the pulpit, I ain't ever been before
And my wrist look like a fishbowl, Mysterio
Never been one to get on a track
And tell motherfuckers I'm all in my bag
They play on the D and they padding the stats
It's like they been rushing to get on the sack
And I don't really got a problem with them
Except for the people that say that I'm wack
I slay on the track like Tony Stewart, the homies knew I would settle the match
I got mirages and illusions that I am never revealing
Garages with the moolah stacked all the way to the ceiling
Broads with the hoop earrings tryna catch on a feeling
Facades that's elusive, masked like I'm really a villain
Never wonder whether I settle every vendetta
You leave your chick at the house I tell you to come and get her
She probably walking funny, her panties never been wetter
The next one better be better, she's charity to us Trevor
Yo, Classified shit, you know what it is
Man, this that music to bring a Christian girl to the abortion clinic to, you know what I'm saying
This that fucking
Interracial music, make ya grandfather mad
Man, this shit makes me wanna bring a switchblade to a preschool and just start slashing
This that music to hate-fuck your ex to
Man, this shit makes me wanna go to Build-A-Bear and pull my fucking nuts out
Fuck Kid Ink
Yeah I'm throwing shots at Kid Ink
Fuck Kid Ink, whatcha gonna do about it
This shit makes me wanna buy a pure-bred dog and send em right to the fucking pound
This shit makes me wanna mow my lawn
This shit makes me wanna take the turn-pike instead of avoiding tolls
Yeah I wanna pay the fucking price
Man, this that shit to abandon your son to
This, this that music, Classified shit
Makes me wanna ride my car off a cliff
But not in a suicidal way, in like a fucking hard way
Classified shit
Fuck Kid Ink