Mr. Skinny

Mr. Skinny Gyypsy cold as winters with the heaters up
White vanilla, kissing on your women, best believe it, cha
Penny for your thoughts
My two cents is what you read about
Mr. Janis Joplin pop-pop-popping let me see you bounce
Boy I’m a pitbull stuck in a pen
Shit when I like to, fuck when I can
Live from the igloo, cold on the mic'
Go motorbike on 'em imma drive to Japan
Rapped as a kid at the Battle of the Bands
FUBU with du-rag ya boy couldn’t dance
I’m on a stage and they don’t understand
How the white boy gave another live winter damn
Die when I really want to stop
Liver I could throw you in the pot
Caution but it’s hot
Pop and I, been around the block
Using me and my Mama at the lot
I put him on spot
Ballin on a budget, not a yacht, independent
Called me said he really want to talk, give a penny
Look at my pictures and laugh at my image and laugh at the fact that I’m sagging
Come from Australia yeah I’m gonna wear it
Grew out my hair so I don’t have to hear it
Started a label with Jake in a bedroom and now I’m a name and I don’t want
forget it
Might pull a knife on a cop any minute
Might get locked, ain’t nobody get to visit
Might get shot, if I run another sentence and I say another thought, OOOooo
Mr. Skinny Gyypsy cold as winters with the heaters up
White vanilla, kissing on your women, best believe it, cha
Penny for your thoughts
My two cents is what you read about
Mr. Janis Joplin pop-pop-popping let me see you bounce
Pending beat to my bleacher flow
Care to mean I might sleep a hoe
Rest in peace to old ronny fudge
Do anything to show momma love
Wave and a jig and I’ve got a buzz
Don’t tell the, yeah, don’t tell the cousins
Bite the hand, don’t feed another
Aye that’s my daddy, uncuff him
Y’all arrestin my father, how many plants we had in that closet?
I’m impressed that y’all found it, all the way up in Porter Ranch houses
I bang a drum, it’s like therapy
When my parents both were not there for me
I’m no pair of loafers, don’t step to me
I won’t check you over, won’t let you
Dead on a record
Stairway to heaven
Fuck all you bloggers and fuck all you labels
I’m too independent
Hot like wasabi, I burn all the bodies, it’s how I intended
You carbon copy, I’m built like Ferrari, you can’t repossess it
Mr. Skinny Gyypsy cold as winters with the heaters up
White vanilla, kissing on your women, best believe it, cha
Penny for your thoughts
My two cents is what you read about
Mr. Janis Joplin pop-pop-popping let me see you bounce
Mr. Skinny Gyypsy cold as winters with the heaters up
White vanilla, kissing on your women, best believe it, cha
Penny for your thoughts
My two cents is what you read about
Mr. Janis Joplin pop-pop-popping let me see you bounce