On Top Lyrics

Course I've thought about killing before

Pens spilling, can't you tell I'm getting ill with the sword?

Thinking what can I fit in a four?

Sweat, ink dripping from my pores

Metaphors galore

Stupid whore or skank, bitch

Whatever which does it

Where's the line cause I'll cross it and switch subjects

Mr. Prick's dicks hitting chicks stomachs

Finger linked from rubbing rectum lips

Sick puppy

Where's the shrooms?

I want to sit in a room

And write till my head gets bigger, balloon

You'd really assume this shit's hot

If I slowed down I can make the whole crowd

Zone out now

Because I pronounce these vows

To make sounds wow

How's this kid doing this?

All my music is is eating shrooms and bumping DMX

And Ludacris

You stupid bitch

I'm feeling like I'm

On top

Shit's gonna pop off

I won't stop till I get enough (get enough)

Won't stop till I get enough

I

Won't stop till I get enough

To state and mention

Where I stay I felt to broke to pay attention

People thought I played demented

I stay pathetic

This shit I say I really meant it

Silly venting

Yelling Willie Nelson

It feels like my face is really melting

This time around I rhyme for crowds

Setting myself aside for now

I'm pointed skyward bound

But my legs are hanging down

My nose is high

My hands are shaking from writing this verse

I write in spurts

Fuck it

Whatever works for me, currently

I spit from my dick and let me say

It burns to pee

Since the nursery

Been nursing sheets

Here's a verse for free

I'll take some twerking cheeks

I hope they'll work for cheap

Cause I'll tip 'em well

I want a whiff, a smell

I'll toss my dick up in a wishing well

Bitch I'm feeling like I'm

On top

Shit's gonna pop off

I won't stop till I get enough (get enough)

Won't stop till I get enough

I

Won't stop till I get enough