Qone ft. Atheist - Weird Science Lyrics

Nineteen seventy motherfucking nine
On a February morning's when my ass sprang to life
Mamma claims I was late
3 weeks past her due date, if that's the case
Well then, I guess my daddy, wasn't, the mailman
(Fuck him)
Sappy pappy sapping happy from the air man
Double dare me to have a tantrum on the air man
I'm Atheist without the hair plan
Did that make sense
Because, my senses sense
(That these)
Pretenses press on your chest like a Lou Thesz press
I'm different, yes, and I'm best, served fresh
By the due date, on this very package, ingest
Find a way to fill your tummy the best
Better take a nibble on a nipple suckle a breast
When I was little, I used to piddle the bed
Now that I'm bigger whip out my dick and piss on some heads

These weird times
Call for weird minds
The kind hip enough to mix up weird science
Bill Nye
Spilt rhymes
Here we are all experiments of weird science
These weird times
Call for weird minds
The kind hip enough to mix up weird science
Bill Nye
Spilt rhymes
Here we are all experiments of weird science

Before I whip it, and whip it good
Before I begin the bustin of cans
Of whoop ass on you hoods
Just hit that and kick back on this track
Like some troubled youth would I could
Speak of troubled youth
By '92 I was skipping' school, smokin' doobies
I was brown but commonly mistaken for a mooly (Hey man!)
When Dave tans his skin turns the color of an eggplant
Did I just say that? (But it's true!)
My Puerto Rican family tree has a few, African roots to boot
I give a hoot, so when I throw out prose I don't pollute
They call me Q add a 1 add food and a few (fuck you)
Average it add some bids add an ex and a wife and the five best kids
Add it all up, it's a life well lived

These weird times
Call for weird minds
The kind hip enough to mix up weird science
Bill Nye
Spilt rhymes
Here we are all experiments of weird science
These weird times
Call for weird minds
The kind hip enough to mix up weird science
Bill Nye
Spilt rhymes
Here we are all experiments of weird science

A lot of rappers say that they just don't give a fuck
I'm just like them
Except I give a fuck, I give two
For Q and my crew, HOL
Yo, I'm feeling real rude, this attitude for real dude
It was nineteen eighty something, I was in the womb
Banging on the belly trying to rock the room
I was born with a mic in my hand (say it again)
I was born with a mic in my hand (playing to win)
I stuck a finger in a socket and blew up like a rocket
Never stoppin when we rock it
We chest choppin, Molly whop 'em
What we have here you don't even want it
Can't handle it like scramblin'
I'm cancellin' champions
I'm dazzlin', I've mastered this
Fittin' a funeral suit for you rappin' stiffs
All right I write shit, that's the day job
Rockin' a show with Q1, that's the night shift

These weird times
Call for weird minds
The kind hip enough to mix up weird science
Bill Nye
Spilt rhymes
Here we are all experiments of weird science
These weird times
Call for weird minds
The kind hip enough to mix up weird science
Bill Nye
Spilt rhymes
Here we are all experiments of weird science