Chloraseptic (Remix)

2 Chainz! Yeah, yeah Take 'em to church, I'm talkin' the tabernacle It's the return of the body snatcher Walk in the spot, make my woman smack ya (Woo!) In a fruit fight, I aim at your Adam's apple Pull up in the candy car, eatin' a candy bar And my girl eatin' a candy apple Yeah (Mm), I line their ass up (Up) I aim at their goozer (Baow!) All of these stones on my neck, uh They must have looked at Medusa Pockets Rasputia of course I drove some rims to court I fucked some twins before I had a Benz before, this is the sin report This is the murder, murder, pass the burner, Em (Uh) Your money shorter than an acronym (Ayy) Big body when I'm backin' in (Woo!) Ladi-dadi, got a bunch of bodies Niggas fakin', niggas human traffickin' (Woo!) I'm on the Act' again, uh (I'm on the Act' again) This ain't a accident, uh King like Ak-Ron I run the trap again, you on the treadmill (Treadmill) Never Neverland, shit came with a Ferris wheel (Goddamn!) Ferris day off, baby, AR in the same car Most of y'all my sons, aw, look at little JR F12 same color Kate Moss Uh, I'm talkin' wristin' the pot I'm talkin' this and you not I'm talkin' bricks and you not I'm talkin' straight up and down, nigga, like 6 o'clock This is the equinox, this what the people want Somebody at the door, I heard the speaker knock, uh I'm at your throat like Chloraseptic, 'septic And you got strep, I'm too complex with, 'plex with This shit I wrote is on some next shit, next shit I'm at your throat, I'm feelin' reckless, reckless, yeah Do me a favor, don't do me no favors These bitches got flavors They all wanna smoke but ain't doin' no labor But they shoppin' at Raleys, they stingin' like tasers Act Hollywood like they play for the Lakers They fly on the latest Crocs, alligators, say hi to my haters Pardon my neighbor We eatin' that chicken, lobster, potatoes You must be sniffin' that yayo If you don't think I'm that nigga Swagger on ten since a day old It's a-okay though, whippin' up whip like it's mayo Every track is a K.O., technical K.O. Go off your head like I'm Ayo Out of this world, talkin' NATO It's 'cause of jail, ho, don't be an A-hole 'Cause I got shooters that shoot when I say so (Lay low!) Wanna be in my shoes, you ain't paid no dues (Our shoes) Go nigga, you ain't break no rules (Hell yeah!) High school, niggas ate yo' food (Food) Might dumb it down a little, but I ain't no fool (Hell yeah!) Niggas hate every day, B (Yeah) Shit is O.C. lately (Yeah) Gotta break 'em off with these Dre beats (Yeah) Or I might go crazy (Hell yeah!) These niggas too goddamn lazy (Too lazy) Don't ever, ever, ever try to play me (To play me) Lil' shawty now comin' from BK (BK) But I'm tryna come up like JAY-Z (Like JAY-Z) Nothin' but love for my idols (Love for my idols) I feel entitled to titles (To titles) Fuck it, man, I want the title (I want the title) Submission, they goin' all viral 'Cause I'm at your throat like Chloraseptic, 'septic And you got strep, I'm too complex with, 'plex with This shit I wrote is on some next shit, next shit I'm at your throat, I'm feelin' reckless, reckless, yeah (Hell yeah) Bin Laden with a pen, bodyin' again I begin slaughterin' your men, prolly shoulda been Ali or the Svengali embodiment of sin Like a Saudi in the Taliban plottin' an event In the lobby of the Intercontinental with an obvious intent And I would not even relent up on a little Like Osama with a bomb under the bin and down the middle Of the Pentagon and hit a kindergärtner with a rental (Stop!) Back and forth, back and forth Like Jack Kevorkian's ass to court "Rap mature! Why can't you be like Macklemore?" (Huh?) "Why you always gotta smack a whore?" (Huh?) It's likely the psychiatric ward's a last resort (Huh?) Something's gotta give, that's for sure Yet you keep comin' back for more Not as raw as I was, "'Walk on Water' sucks" Bitch, suck my dick! Y'all saw the tracklist and had a fit 'Fore you heard it, so you formed your verdict While you sat with your arms crossed Did your little reaction videos and talked over songs (Chill!) Nah dog, y'all sayin' I lost it? Your fuckin' marbles are gone (Wait, Em!) But nowadays every flow, every cadence sound the same (Skrrt) Brain's a powder keg, I draw inspiration outta hate Real pain in the paper, I don't trace But if I look strange and outta place It's 'cause I'm an alien, that's why I write 'til the page is outta space (Duh!) From 7 Mile in Novara To "How can I be down?", all of us tryna pile in the car (Yeah!) We shot for the stars (Yeah!) 'Cause we only got so much time in this world (Yeah!) So rewind it to your high school dance to the night before If you think you're promised tomorrow (Yeah!) Now I'm 'bout to fool again This tune is sick, it's luminous, the moon is lit A freakin' lunatic, a human computer chip And I'm soon to stick a broom in the uterus of your Hooters chick If I was you, I wouldn't do nothin' stupid due to the mood I'm in I'm losin' it, you get chewed like a Junior Mint Show me who to rip, it's time for you to get screwed Empty the lubricant and put super glue in it (Woo!) How many fuckin' rappers did I go through? Dispel doubt, but you won't admit I smoked And you was spellbound, hellbound in my snowsuit But am I s'posed to sound like everything else out? 'Cause I don't get compared to it, only myself now Well, I can see the fair-weather fans and sales down But the only way I care is if I let myself down But what the fuck have I woke to? Time to eat the vocals and shit out Pro Tools I know you still want me to ill out, don't you? Hopin' the old Slim's gonna spill out, open Fire on your whole camp with this spit, I roast you So chill out, no, you Hoes couldn't roast me with the shit I wrote you Then I took a stand, went at Tan-Face and practically cut my motherfuckin' fan base in half and still outsold you You just called my shit trash? Thank God, I rap better when the odds are stacked "Revival's wack, I don't like the 'Zombie' track And when he's talkin' that garbage psychotic crap Where's your content at? What's with all the conscious rap? P!nk, Beyoncé this and Kehlani that" (Yeah!) I just add it to the fuel in my rocket pack 'Til I'm ready to respond, then I'ma launch it at 'em Idiotic from the fuckin' embryonic sac To the body bag, I'll be back And when I am, I'll be at your fuckin' throat like— Like Chloraseptic