Domo Genesis, The Alchemist, Vince Staples, Earl Sweatshirt, Action Bronson - Elimination Chamber lyrics

Yo, um, yo oh-so-cocky, you can't stop me
In this old Versace
Nigga watch me in the streets
Like it's roller hockey
Your bitch is floppy
Givin' sloppy while she call me "Papi"
Takin' the doggies right to the
Face like she Kobiyashi
You niggas' flow is washy
I'm gettin' mines dry-cleaned tight seam
It might seem I'm sellin' bitches pipe dreams
Hi, fiends I'm back with a bag
Of them packed white things my Nikes clean
I see these niggas hatin'
Through my ice blings
I'm a bad motherfucker, I ain't use a rubber
Super-lover, so soon
You'll say hello to your newest brother
The truest colors what I bleed
But you ain't seen enough of
Nigga leaking, you gon' have to
Go see the deacon, you stupid sucker
Young Dom
Say you old niggas should wrap it up
You wack, focus back on the craft
You hardly rap enough
The fattest blunt, and death to that pop-hop
I ain't ask for much
And stop askin' for the collabs
'cause all you bastards suck

This that thirty deep-in-Saugus shit
Firestarter squadron
Dodgin' coppers since ask her
Why she dropping, cuz
It's probably 'cause he prodigious
Pay the rent easy, leave the bank cheesy
And bass leave your face greasy, artisan
Paint easy
Thick bristle type nigga on a bitch steez
Stanzas diesel like Vic Tanny on a fritz
Whoops, system overload
Itchin' for a foe to poach
Spittin' like the engine on
A motherfuckin' motorboat
Gold glisten under overcoat, missin' all
Affection for these niggas
Redirectin' all these niggas very literal
Type to sip the Mickeys out of cereal
Drunk and driving, twisty
How he inked up in the swimming pool?
Hundred stand against me, I'm a
Menace, void a villain, sue me
Driving into fences 'cause I hit
The whip a little woozy
Bitch, I'm busy cruising, 'scuse me

Can't even walk up in the church
Without these niggas tryna testify
I live to die, better that than to live a lie
I rap better than most these rap veterans
Hard headed and hopeless
Hope that God let us in
Momma didn't wanna give birth to a nigga
Should've murdered a nigga
I'm a cancer to the youth
Automatics out the roof
380 with the weave in it
On sight, scary as prom nights with Carrie
Or car rides with Berry that's Halle
Not Brent
Shooting like Brent and his brother
Doing what Daddy had did
Niggas want Grammys and shit
That's funny to me
'Cause since the first take
It's been about money to me
I'm just tryin' to get what Diddy got
Doing what got Biggie shot
They told me that I wasn't shit
But left me in a litter box
Give it up and get a job

Ugh, get a job, bitch
I'm like the boss from the
End of the Nintendo game
My brain is on another level
I can feel the Devil's pain
Only address me by my reverend
Name the good doctor
The good author, good brain in a good Porsche
Dancing drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunk
Backflip in a jacuzzi
Forty floors inside the Trump
Front-flip into this high-yellow
Chinese bitch's rump
Then she make me chicken broccoli for lunch
I roll a joint like a Motumbo arm
I'm high cousin
Every time I roll the dice, it's five hundred
When I order wine, it's nine hundred
French chefs kneel before me
End of story, take a shorty to the sortee
That's the bathroom
You already know what happens there
I pull my swimming trunks down
She suck me through the boxer
While I'm wearin' flip-flops
Shit's real, grip the wheel, lift steel
That's it woo, fuck yeah, hello
Fanfare, bravo, encore that's a wrap