Bass

Tell BEP we ain’t with onomatopoeia’s
Want to diss? Well on songs I’m a genius
A real wiz kid… just ask Dorothy
Been lynching for the green all while dressing clean
No dirty laundry so I got more gain
By working out on beats, so you got more pain
No agony, no rewards
So even if you’re mad at me, no remorse
Code G, flip that: Gymnast; get that
No bass? Skip that. Tight verse; spit that
This that point blank, smoking gun joint stank
No marriage want to wait; won’t raise the divorce rate
Make no sense, alimony check the wordplay
Without family feuds; no survey
No ringing, no buzzing while the game’s on lock
Cause the show is on the road (when I’m on the block)
Huzzah!
You hear that bass bang?
You hear your ears ring?
Who’s bringing that flame?
It’s Fiya B, mayne!
Shaking and breaking your eardrums, sucker
Making and taking you near dumb, buster
Must I remind you I’m stunting my IQ. No stumping the guy who is sicker than
swine flu
I got a lot of hotter fever than Beiber; believe I’m just influenza
Send the victims to the doc before delirium
Hits them; give them shots of get silly serum
Sick curing these dumber cats at the price of Social
Security numbers; that’s why we do not know you
Citizens, immigrants; decision imminent
Deportee reporting: Me foreign resorting
Timeshare I’m here visiting cities and
Playing Neptunes and wreck fools like test Vues
Space age flows that drift on so catch that
Ball, dog: Fetch that, pet that, guess that
Means that you’re feeling me drop that hot stuff
So watch you step off when I’m on the block
Huzzah!
Bridge 2x
808, sub kick saying ain’t bass sick
You got to like a little «B» cooking in your basement
So turn your bottoms up for tres songs
And let the beat bang til your face numb
Because I got that