The List

Yeah, it’s Krispy. Yeah, Krispy. Yeah, check the list. Krispy. Yeah, Krispy
Hahahahaha
It’s Krispy
Check it out
Say the chicks' freaks? Nigga let’s expose 'em
Coast them to come the spot and poke ‘em
Spin it up, rig it off, for self-control
Still I got a lust for these selfish hoes
Slender type, livin' life, no agenda
To hinder the tender bitch, no surrender
Seven days a week, seven days no sleep
I sleep and then I wake, another case of the freaks
Please on the futon, spread like poupon
And then put the food on, like Paul Prudhomme
Cook it up, cook it up, cook it up, move on
Yep, barely all full with Filet Mignon
It’s LA, exactly, these broads are tacky
To get it they do anything to make you happy
Wow, that’s facts, that’s tracks for the blacks
That’s tits for the whites, got dick for the wives
Desperate like Eva, the evil divas
They must lust me, that’s the semen eaters
From the window of my room see the Hollywood sign
On the phone with my people, «How your mom and them?»
Fine
So now, I know you don’t wanna go out with me man, check it out though.
It’s probably like, my last time asking you to go out. I know I said this last
time, but, this is really the last time. Listen to me. Come out with me tonight,
I promise you, I never ask your ass again
They met him in London
His hell was the fever
He talked with an accent, practice
They lift off his cheek but, that’s
Shit not funny, this no game neither, um
Sneakers, ballistic Aristocats
Skateboard James Paul for the sake, rack
The model with American dreams, stay choking
He listened to a bitch with the Air Beethoven
Stay locc’in, don’t ask her questions
Shovin' down your throat like an antiseptic pop
Bigger than beats this is a rock in the garage
And make a gumbo with hip hop in the marriage
Jazz class felt like ass
Fucking his horn, bust some nut on the brass
Last laugh, give me that cash
On the way to Wells Fargo
A gift to the teller
He’s a hipster, he’s hip to the better
Think about a hoe like a rip in the sweater
Life’s an eight ball, he took his face off
Now you can put this shit on like face off
Hey Scotty, you ready for take off?
But nigga we ain’t got no time for space off